


Harry Potter: Snakes and Scrolls

by AnnaLeonhardlt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Blaise Zabini is a Good Friend, Childhood Friends, Cousins, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Drama, Enemies to Friends, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaLeonhardlt/pseuds/AnnaLeonhardlt
Summary: Year 6 at Hogwarts and there have been some major changes. Voices in their heads. Memories missing. And a Dumbledore that wasn't so great after all. The forces of the dark are closing in and they need the help of an ancient group to win this war. From the Slytherin perspective.Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson & Blaise Zabini, Severus Snape/Septima Vector
Kudos: 5





	1. Reflections on Summer

_**Chapter One: "Reflection on Summer"** _

Sunday, September 1, 1996.

~At Malfoy Manor~

" _STUPID, PURE-BLOOD SUPREMACY MINDED FAMILY!,_ " he yelled out once he was in the comfort of his room.

He had hastily cast a Silencing Charm beforehand and was now free to curse his relatives behind their backs. He paced back and forth angrily, wondering how he had managed to get himself into that mess. Not finding a good enough answer after thinking for a while, he cast the Exploding Charm on nearly everything in his sight, using it as a way to release his pent up anger and confusion.

**Draco Lucius Malfoy** had a piss poor week training with the other young Death Eaters. He had been hoping that when he finally came home, he'd be able to relax. But Draco really should've known better. As soon as he entered the foyer, he heard a conversation regarding the punishment for those who were captured and sent to Azkaban.

_'Why didn't I take the side entrance?,' he groaned in his thoughts when he heard them at that time._

Draco could've just turned and exited the house, but _NOOOOOO_! The **Dark Lord** had to see him and decide to ask _him_ of all people what punishment they deserved. When Draco took too long to respond, **Rodolphus Lestrange** said some disrespectful things about his father. Then **Bellatrix Druella Lestrange née Black** yelled that Draco was thinking of a lenient punishment for **Lucius Abraxas Malfoy**. Draco wanted to _Crucio_ them there and then! A hand on his shoulder prevented him pulling out his wand, or rather, a scaly hand.

_'The fu–?,' he had thought for a split second._

Draco's white-hot anger was the cause of him shrugging off his master's hand and sneering at him. When he realized his mistake, he had watched with horror as his Lord's empty wand hand twitched. A violent non-verbal and wand-less _Crucio_ raked through his body, and it threw him to the floor. Draco had slipped in and out of consciousness for ten whole minutes, and his mother had begged the Dark Lord on his behalf, much to Draco's dismay despite him having a slightly disorientated mind. When she suggested a cruel punishment for those captured, the Dark Lord was pleased enough to release him from the curse. A random house elf was then ordered to escort him upstairs. In the hallway, far from the main room the Dark Lord occupied, Draco told the house elf he would go to his room on his own, but that didn't stop it from following him there though.

Draco paused his destructive spell casting, and sour moment of remembrance, when an ancient and antique watch on the floor caught his eye.

" _Bellatrix's_!" He snarled out.

His mother had chosen to give it to him two years ago. It was traditionally passed down from heir to heir in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. **Sirius Orion Black** was the true heir even though he was disinherited, but he had been sent to Azkaban and was unable to come into his inheritance. **Regulus Arcturus Black** , his younger brother, had disappeared so the position went to their cousin. Unfortunately, Narcissa's elder sister, **Andromeda November Tonks née Black** , did not get the title. She had also been disinherited like Sirius, but was completely barred from getting the title because she married a Muggle-born wizard. After all, the family's motto was _"Toujours Pur."_ meaning _"Always Pure."_ There was no possible way for Aunt Andromeda to get the title of Heir.

The position had become Narcissa's since Bellatrix was sent to Azkaban, however, the watch was put in Bellatrix's name. When the Dark Lord released her and the other Death Eaters from the Dementor filled prison in Draco's fifth-year, Bellatrix took up her title as the heir. Sirius, Regulus and Bellatrix had no children, so Draco was given the title. It would've gone to **Nymphadora Tonks** if her mother hadn't married a Muggle-born. However, a new wave of fury hit him as he glared at it. It reminded him of the disgusting family his wonderful mother, aunt Andromeda and cousin Nymphadora were unfortunately born into. Draco knew enough about the two from his mother that he like them.

He pointed his wand at the object. " _Bombarda!_ "

Draco watched with mild pleasure as it exploded, before throwing his wand across the room in frustration. His familiar screeched as the wand almost hit it, to which the young Malfoy snappily responded with _"Shut up!"_ Draco marched over to his bed and dived into the pillows before letting out a series of screams, kicking his legs about and hitting the bed with his fist. He then stopped when he heard a familiar sort of sound. Draco tilted his head up, looking towards Oblem, his short-eared owl. The bloody owl was there, screeching its birdy laugh at him!

_'How dare that little–!'_

The glare he sent Oblem would've earned him an approving look from his father, but now wasn't the time to think about the man that messed up his life.

"Ooooh! You find my tantrum sooo amusing?!" Draco grabbed a pillow. "Well, tell me if this is amusing!" He chucked the pillow at his owl.

* * *

Oblem ducked his head and the pillow missed. He let out a sound that he believed resembled a ' _hmph_!'. His owner was so violent!

_**"Bad Draconian!"** _

Oblem flew from his unharmed perched to Draconian's nightstand. His owner had resumed his screaming into the pillows. That wasn't how teenage dragons were supposed to behave! Though, whenever they're angry, they do set the place on fire... So, Draconian exploding things were his way of setting the room on fire? Hmm, strange... Nevertheless, his Dragon should've outgrown the kicking and screaming. Oblem looked up at the ceiling, not liking how childish his Draconian was acting. If owls could roll their eyes, then Oblem certainly did.

_**"Draconian?"** _

He gave a hoot for his owner's attention. Oblem watched as his upset little dragon tilted his head to look up at him. The boy's eyes were watery, like he was trying not to cry. _Poor dragon..._ Oblem stared at him expectantly, knowing that this dragon wasn't finished with its tantrum yet.

Draconian let out a frustrated yell. _"AHHHH! I HATE THIS PLACE!"_

_**"I believe I already knew that. Now, what happened?"** _

"Oh! The nerve of those–! Those–! URGH! _Them!_ I wanted to curse the ears off that _bloody werewolf!_ How dare he keep me from my home for a whole week! It's his fault I walked in on that conversation! If I ever get my hands on that _fucking **Fenrir Greyback**_ , I'll make sure that his head ends up on a pole!"

Draconian had hissed out the name with so much venom that Oblem knew a basilisk would approve. Not that Oblem personally knew any basilisks. A few times, he caught sight of the one in his dragon's second year with a fiery haired girl. He was constantly worried for Draconian, ever if his owner was really bratty during that time. Oblem was there when it petrified Mrs. Norris. He liked Mrs. Norris, because she understood what it was like to have a grumpy owner. He missed talking with her that year.

Anyways, Oblem flinched (as much as any owl could) and let out a sound of displeasure. The Malfoy heir continued to rant, now on his feet, pacing. He looked like a stalking lion, _oh, the irony_!

" —and that Bellatrix! She better be glad she's my aunt because I wanted to hex her into _last week_! Then Rodolphus! ( _ **"—Rudolph? Like the muggle reindeer?"** "Shut up and let me finish!")_ —That arse of a husband! He had the _nerve_ to dare call my father _an embarrassment_ to the family!"

**_"Which he was, but let's not go there..."_ **

Draco continued, "I know my father dragged our family into this, but the things he said were just downright awful! So what if Rodolphus had been promoted to a higher ranked Death Eater! It's only because of the failure of the others at the Department of Mysteries! He's just a _replacement_ , but he seems to think he's _earned_ the position! That doesn't mean he can go around insulting my father as he pleases! The _arrogance_ of him!"

Oblem blinked at him in disbelief. As if Draconian isn't arrogant too! His dragon ignored him in favour of continuing his rant. The owl narrowed its eyes at his owner. Once a brat, always a brat.

"WELL–! IF MY FATHER IS AN EMBARRASSMENT! Then– Then– THEN _HIS FACE IS AN EMBARRASSMENT_!"

Oblem widened his eyes in amusement. If he was human, he would be covering his mouth with his hands, trying not to laugh.

* * *

Draco wanted to slap himself.

_**"And the best insult of the year goes toooo... DRACONIAN LUCIUS MALFOY!"** _

He glared at Oblem, knowing very well that the bird had thought that, and had intended for him to hear. Oblem looked at him innocently, even blinking its eyes at him.

Draco scoffed. "Don't try to pretend that you're innocent, you guilty little thing."

Oblem was one of those rare _(–and yes, he said rare. Malfoys always got the best!)_ , magically bred owls. He was like the owl version of a Kneazle: independent, intelligent, and capable of aggression if pushed to the limit. Of course, Oblem didn't have the lion tail or large ears, but he did have spotted brown feathers for camouflage whenever he hunted. Once the Owner and the Familiar formed a bond, telepathic communication between Owner and Familiar would develop. As such, Draco got Oblem when he was just four-years-old. This made it easier for them to bond and gave them a longer relationship. Of course, normal short-eared owls lived to be four-years-old, but this was a magical bird. Oblem's kind could live pass twenty years if taken good care of, and as a Malfoy's pet, he would. Draco also had a Eurasian eagle-owl named Bubo, but it wasn't magically bred like Oblem. In fact, the bird was so bloody _normal_ that he found himself bored of it sometimes. Oblem was much more entertaining!

_**"My Draconian?"**_ Oblem called.

Draco rolled his eyes at the endearment, but looked at his familiar. The owl nodded its head towards the clock on the wall beside the bed that escaped destruction.

_'Quarter past ten'_

Draco cursed under his breath. A benefit of being Lucius Malfoy's son was that he had access to the Floo that lead directly to a fireplace at Platform 9 and 3/4, right beside the Hogwarts Express. It was open from half past ten to quarter before eleven. If he missed that opening, mother would have his arse!

A knock on his door caught his attention, and Draco tensed. He immediately summoned his wand, caught it, then pointed it at the door. Draco sat up on his bed, immediately casting a Double Protego around both him and Oblem. If someone barged in and fired a spell, it would rebound and return to its caster. He glared at the door, an Unforgivable on his tongue to cast on the individual behind the door, if it was someone he didn't tolerant.

"Come in," he said.

He cautiously watched the door open, revealing a beautiful face framed by blonde hair. Draco sighed in relief when his mother's head had popped in before she put her whole body into the room. Her emerald earrings swayed elegantly as she closed the door behind her and walked towards him. She stopped a few feet from his bed, her posture as one of a dignified lady. The mother and her son had a stare-off, both faces void of emotions, then _**Narcissa Oleander Malfoy née Black** _gave a sad smile.

"Oh, come here," She spread her arms for him.

Without hesitation, Draco leapt off his bed and launched himself into her arms. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and rested her head on his shoulder, him being taller. Draco inhaled her rosemary scent and sighed contentedly, his anger slowly going away.

**_'Greater is no feeling than being in a mother's arms,'_ **

**_\- A quote by a certain Italian fellow_ **

Blaise was right, indeed. The feeling of being utterly and completely wrapped in your mother's arms was absolutely wonderful. Draco had no doubt in his mind that he was safe as long as he was in this embrace of love. He was aware that he sounded like a bloody Hufflepuff, but he honestly didn't care. It was how he felt.

Standing there in his bedroom, Draco looked down at his mother with eyes of gratitude for all she had done for him. It was not easy dealing with a spoilt, stubborn, self-centered brat such as he. It was also a wonder he turned out like his father when there was this incredibly kind woman who gave birth to him. _Curse Lucius Malfoy for filling his head with garbage!_ It took the Dark Lord's return being officially announced for Draco to realise just how wrong his father's ideals were.

His attention was captured by this stunning woman before him when she broke the silence between them.

"I was only downstairs for a few minutes," Narcissa teased with a gentle smile.

Draco then quipped, "That was a few minutes too long!"

It was muffled, of course, as his face was now buried in her neck. She did hear his reply though, and giggled like a school girl. Draco loved hearing that sound. Her soft kiss on the side of his temple made him smile for the first time in a week, and Draco sighed contentedly once more.

"You smelled me earlier, didn't you?"

Strangely enough, Draco felt a wave of embarrassment before he pushed it to the back of his mind. He replied cheekily, "It's _my_ nose."

"And it's _my_ neck."

"I know," he said shamelessly.

"So, you think you're funny?,"

Draco smirked against her skin and replied cockily, "Oh, I know I'm funny!"

"Big-headed brat!"

He chuckled because he knew she didn't mean it. Draco really missed these little moments with his mother. The Dark Lord effectively reduced the amount of time they spent together this week when he sent Narcissa to _Merlin-knew-where_ to help heal some injured Death Eaters. Then on top of that, Draco had to send that week training with a certain werewolf. It was a miracle Draco didn't _strangle_ anyone.

"But you love me," he replied.

His previous thoughts disappeared as she whispered, "I do," so lovingly to him.

Draco's smile grew. He pulled away a little to look at her, his arms still around her. His mother was really beautiful, her icy-blue eyes ironically warming his heart. How could anyone think Narcissa was a cold woman? They were absolutely stupid! If anything, his mother was a more classy and graceful version of Mrs. Molly Weasley. He knew how the red-headed woman was; so loving and devoted to her husband and children. Despite the pure-blood non-sense that Lucius had filled his young mind with, Draco was quite fond of Mrs. Weasley. He just really disliked her three youngest sons and daughter.

Now, Draco was forced to keep up with the Malfoy and Black appearances for the sake of his father and mother's dark family. Honestly, Draco had nothing against Half-bloods; they can't chose their parents. However, he really didn't like Muggles and Muggle-borns. Not to mention the stupid people who believe that they should be a part of the Wizarding World. No one was changing his mind about that.

Narcissa stared into Draco's now calm grey eyes, but she probably wasn't aware that the conflict in her own eyes were clearly visible to him.

Draco sighed. "Stop regretting it."

His mother seemed a bit taken back by his words and she looked away, most likely feeling guilty for what he had been forced to bare and to do. A flash of pain was seen across her features and Draco knew- _just knew-_ she was remembering how terrified he was when taking the mark. His mother was so predictable to him, and it didn't help that she had a terrible habit of blaming herself for anything bad that Draco went through. This, in turn, always irritated him, but he never yelled at her for it. It was a part of who she was, as a mother. She couldn't help it no matter how hard he had tried to break her out of the habit.

Draco gently brushed his fingertips against her cheek, watching her look up at him with sad eyes. He stared at her with worried eyes and she looked away.

"It's my fault you bare the Dar–" She began.

He interrupted her. "No," saying it firmly. Only one word and he already felt emotional. Draco swallowed and continued. Mother needed her to hear this.

"It is not your fault _father_ damned us all. It is not your fault that _he_ got _himself_ thrown in Azkaban. It is not your fault that _the Dark Lord_ chose _me_ to replace him. It is not your fault that _I love you_! And it is _definitely_ not your fault that I am willing to destroy my future by taking the Dark Mark and become a Young Death Eater to save your life!"

"Draco..."

He raised his voice in anger, " _No_! If I lost you, I'd go mad!" Then his shoulder slumped as he whispered the second part. "Or worse, try to go with you through the veil."

He knew what really happened to Sirius Black, and his true allegiance. Bellatrix wouldn't shut up about it.

"Draco!" She rebuked, but he didn't listen.

"Or probably get myself killed trying to murder that scaly bastard," He let out a dark and dry chuckle after that.

Narcissa placed her hands on his shoulders and gave him a hard shake to bring him back to sane reality. The literal dark clouds that had gathered in his eyes slowly disappeared and he looked down in shame. He gave in to the Darkness within him, and actually didn't mind it at that moment. He was becoming more like the rest of the Death Eaters, bloody dark and unhinged.

"I...," He tried to find an excuse for his behaviour.

His mother held his face in her hands and gently tilted his head to look at her. "You couldn't control it. That is not your fault."

Draco closed his eyes, the shame still there, but he knew she was right.

"Okay," he said hoarsely.

He had taken the Dark Mark and was made a replacement for his father. The same father who ruined his life, but let's not go there. One should know that they will never come out unscathed when using Dark Magic. The burning brand on his left forearm said so. However, Draco attributed this Darkness to his YDE (Young Death Eater) sessions. He been trained to do the 'evilest' of Dark Arts along with the others— _he's read about worse_ , and Draco experienced several moments of being overwhelmed by it. Heck, he even watched it consume some of his fellow trainees to the point where they had to be _Oblivated_ because they couldn't handle it. Well, that definitely said a lot about Draco since he came out as Number One in the entire YDE rank.

Ever since he started doing these things, Draco felt a malevolent kind of feeling slowly consume him. He tried reducing how much Dark Arts he practiced during his spare time, since he did it quite frequently. That didn't work. Then Draco tried spending excessive amounts of time in the Dark Lord's presence. The man– _reptile!_ – always had heavy, Dark waves rolling off of him. Draco had gotten used to them over time, but the feeling only grew stronger. He had just given up on that method when the Dark Lord suddenly allowed him to sit at the foot of the stairs to his throne like Bellatrix did. Death Eater meetings were now more nerve-wrecking than before since he was able to tell how the man– _reptile!_ – felt; whether it was sadistic delight, annoyance, angry or plain bored.

Despite how he felt about it, Draco knew the feeling was still growing stronger. Every single day here got more miserable than the one before! It had gotten to the point where everyone knew this. Of course, it was probably expected since the July 28 to August 10 incidents were violent enough for Young Death Eaters to actually give Draco's fourteen days of madness a title. They called it the events of **'Draconis Tenebris Diebus Quattuordecim'** , which in English was **'The Dragon's Fourteen Days of Dark'** or **'The Dragon's Dark Fortnight'**. Ever since that, the young Malfoy really wished his mother would be there with him at Hogwarts. He would be satisfied if it was only to bring him back whenever Draco couldn't control it. He didn't want to go dark like he did for that time. Never again!

Narcissa had been sent to the other side of England, away from Wiltshire, on errands for The Dark Lord during that period. That meant that Draco had no one to bring him back to sane reality, and he hated it. It also felt like the Dark Lord did that on purpose, as if to test Draco's stability. Well, the scaly bastard was _pleased_ enough with his behaviour to tell Draco _to his face_ that he _enjoyed_ seeing Draco in such a state. Maybe he passed that test, _somehow_...

Mother was not pleased, to say the least, and went charging into large ballroom that the snake had claimed for himself. She actually _attacked_ Greyback when she saw him on the way when he _foolishly_ – Narcissa's words– tried to block the entrance doors! His mother had intended to _curse_ the Dark Lord six ways to Sunday, and might have actually been _killed_ for her recklessness if Rodolphus and Bellatrix hadn't decided to _imprison_ her in a glass box! Draco had watched from the foot of his master's (well actually Lucius') throne as the usually calm and composed Narcissa screamed _threats and obscenities_ at the Dark Lord! Uncle Severus had to cast a _Silencio_ on her to shut her up, worrying for her safety. Imagine the panic and fear that struck every one of them present when the Dark Lord started laughing in amusement. Draco had literally stopped breathing for the whole minute the man laughed. If the others were as close to the throne as he was, they would've felt the Dark waves dancing in sadistic glee!

Never had Draco seen so many people beg for a single person's life! Then the Dark Lord smiled! Draco, to this day, can't even properly describe the damn bone-chilling smile! He actually fainted from how heavy the Dark waves got!

But enough of that! Wanting to be distracted from this craziness, Draco glanced at his large trunk and tsked.

"That's going to be heavy to carry," he said with a small smile.

Narcissa gave him a sad smile and engulfed him in a hug once more before snapping her fingers to summon a random house elf.

"Now let's get you to Platform 9 and 3/4, Draco."


	2. Being Abstruse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the Hogwarts Express. In which Draco is a stubborn, emotional unstable, abtruse individual. Pansy and Blaise are good friends. Allegiences are shown.

_Never had Draco seen so many people beg for a single person's life! Then the Dark Lord smiled! Draco, to this day, can't even properly **describe** the damn bone-chilling smile! He actually fainted from how heavy the Dark waves got!_

_But enough of that! Wanting to be distracted from this craziness, Draco glanced at his large trunk and tsked._

_"That's going to be heavy to carry," he said with a small smile._

_Narcissa gave him a sad smile and engulfed him in a hug once more before snapping her fingers to summon a random house elf._

_"Now let's get you to Platform 9 and 3/4, Draco."_

* * *

**HPHPHP**

* * *

**_Chapter Two: "Being Abstruse"_ **

Sunday, September 1, 1996.

~On the Hogwarts Express~

"I don't know why your father is putting you through this," **Pansy Parkinson** complained softly.

Draco Malfoy stared out the train window, refusing to answer. He wasn't in the mood to tell her that such was not the case. His father was in Azkaban, and therefore, had no means of making him do anything he didn't want to. While Pansy did know this, she had assumed that it had been Lucius Malfoy's intention to have Draco become a Young Death Eater. Oh, how wrong she was! It was actually aunt Bellatrix who wanted Draco to be a YDE back in his fifth-year. However, Draco's mother had harshly refused. Narcissa even went as far as to threatening to sever all ties with the Black family. As crazy and cruel as his aunt was, she did not want to lose contact with her youngest sister and gave up on the idea of having Draco join the Young Death Eaters.

It was all for naught.

At the start of the summer holiday, when the Dark Lord chose him to replace his father, Bellatrix was quite happy. Draco figured that in that woman's mind, she must have thought, ' _Since it was the Dark Lord who commanded my nephew to join, Narcissa cannot sever contact with me!'_

It turned out that the crazy bat was right, his mother didn't sever contact. That didn't stop his mother from giving aunt Bellatrix a hard time whenever the two were together. Draco had to admit that his mother acted childishly, but he didn't mind. He found it very amusing to see Bellatrix storm out of the room after being _annoyed the hell out_ by Narcissa! That was definitely one of the things he enjoyed seeing during his summer. Usually, Bellatrix would _Crucio_ anyone who did that, but it seemed like his mother was an exception to that.

"Draaacoooo!" Pansy whined, pulling him out of his thoughts.

She started nudging him with her foot under the table. Draco had to put his tongue between his molars to keep from yelling at her. He moved his feet out of her kicking range and shifted in his seat to be in a more comfortable position. Draco pointedly refused to give in and look at her.

**_"Stubborn Draconian."_ **

Draco resisted the urge to groan. Even when the bird was in a different section of the train, it still managed to annoy him.

_"Shut up, Oblem."_

**_"If you wanted a quiet owl, you should've brought Bubo."_ **

_"Are you saying that Bubo is a more disciplined owl than you are?"_

**_"No! He's just boring!"_ **

_"Fair point, but I want peace and quiet right now."_

**_"I'm lonely."_ **

_"Go 'Hoot' Theodore's ears off or something."_

**_"Who?"_ **

_"Theodore Nott."_

**_"Who?"_ **

_"Um, Theo."_

**_"Who?"_ **

_"You-"_

Draco paused as he realized what the bloody owl was doing. He pointedly glared at the bird in his mind, knowing it would be conveyed through their telepathic bond.

_"I hate you, you know."_

**_"Love you too, Draconian!"_ **

The bond went silent after that, though he knew Oblem was still listening to his thoughts.

When Draco was a child, he had been unnerved by how easily his familiar could access his mind. Now, he wasn't, because, Draco could also access Oblem's mind. Both of them can share information with the other through their bond and not even say a word. It was proven very beneficial whenever Oblem was set free to roam the Hogwarts castle or Malfoy Manor. Draco's familiar always heard some form of information that proved useful to him, and the informer was none the wiser. No one suspects that an owl is listening to conversation, so thy speak freely. It's a win - win situation.

Well, the only persons who would suspect would either be paranoid or pure-blood. Blaise had an owl like his, as did several others in Slytherin and a few in other houses.

Draco's attention was caught by the sudden itch on his cheek.

_'Seriously?'_

His best mate, **Blaise Zabini** , was staring at him. It was the sort of sixth sense one would develop after spending time around the keen male. After all, everyone knew how observant Blaise was. Draco always found it entertaining to watch others squirm under the Italian's intense gaze. However, it was equally (or more so) annoying to be on the receiving end. He rubbed his thumb over his cheek, a bit irritated by the itch. He still refused to talk to either of them. Draco was aware that he was acting immature, but he didn't care. If he didn't want to talk, then he wasn't going to talk. They couldn't force him to.

Pansy and Blaise were sitting across from him in one of the four-seater table areas outside of the usual train compartments. A different train carriage had been installed this year because there were complaints of not enough space. The first-years that arrived last September were the biggest group to ever come to Hogwarts, Seventy-six. Another train carriage had to be added so that there would be enough space for both them and the incoming First-years. This made the Hogwarts Express a five-carriage train now.

The students of Slytherin had captured this carriage as a part of their territory since _technically_ they had the largest amount of members. After all, twenty-four of the seventy-six new students were sorted into Slytherin last year. At first, Draco thought the Slytherins were warding off the other students with their mere presence. But, after a while, he realized that it didn't stop the Hufflepuffs and the occasional Ravenclaws from visiting and even staying there. Many students may not believe it, but Slytherins were capable of making friends/getting along with students from other houses. Gryffindors were just damn annoying!

"Dra–" Pansy started to say, but was interrupted.

"Is Malfoy _still_ refusing to _talk_?" someone asked from behind Draco.

He turned around, startled, then glared up at **Emma Vane**. She was clad in a stylish (fitted) mink coat that fell off her shoulder and rested on the crook of her arms. It was done to show off her sweetheart neckline top and collarbone, and not so much her decent sized breasts. Draco found his eyes drawn to it twice before he took in the rest of her. She stood with her hands on her hip, posture sexy— not that he minded.

"It _seems_ you _are_. " She spoke in a leveled tone, giving away nothing.

Vane held her chin up so that she could look down her nose at him. He held her gaze as she stared at him with a look of indifference. Draco was not going to sit and watch her speak to him like he was some misbehaving child.

"It seems you aren't? I must be blind then to the way you've been avoiding Vaisey." He said in a satirical tone.

Vane's left eye twitched. She clearly did not contemplate the possibility of him answering her. That didn't stop her from replying in a deride tone.

" _I_ have nothing to _hide_."

Draco hummed, finding her jab at him being branded with the Dark Mark unworthy of a worded reply. Vane was a Young Death Eater like he was.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you do."

They both turned to Pansy whose arms were folded and a mocking smile on her face. Draco knew that look. He'd been on the receiving end many times in the past. Pansy knew something, oh, she knew! Vane hissed and glared at her. All the more for Draco to believe Pansy had something over her.

"Greetings, Vain one." Pansy said cheerfully.

Draco turned his face away from Vane's sight. Pansy's smile was positively guileless! He was fighting a smile on his lips, not wanting to encourage his best friend to continue insult Vane. Draco briefly remembered that Pansy had told him once that he looked constipated while fighting a smile. Blaise remained quiet, but there was no hiding that small smile on the corner of his lips.

Vane gave a tight lipped smile. "Greetings, Parkinson." She turned to Blaise and the smile softened along with her something in her voice. " _Saluti, Blaise_."

Blaise rose a perfect eyebrow, then nodded with a tilt of his head. Vane took that as an invitation to take the seat beside Draco, much to his annoyance.

" _Come stai oggi?_ (How are you doing today?)" Vane asked. Her elbow was on the table with her hand under her chin. Her eyes were trained solely on Blaise.

Draco rolled his eyes. "We're all fine today. Now, leave, Wind Vane."

Pansy took that as her cue to move closer to Blaise. Going along with it, Blaise met her halfway and gracefully put his arm around her shoulder. The innocent look on his face made Draco's back ached and stomach hurt from holding in his laughter. Blaise moved in such a natural way that you'd think he did it unconsciously. Vane scowled and narrowed her eyes at them. She turned her attention back to Draco, a taunting look in her eyes.

" _Afraid_ I'll tell your _secret_?"

He smirked. "They already know. After all, I got _special_ permission."

She glared at him. An important thing to know about Emma Vane was that she hated when someone was favoured over her. That was made quite obvious when she constantly dueled with him during the YDE program. Sometimes, the Dark Lord offered to oversee the dues, and all of those times, he blatantly favoured him. The scaly bastard would comment on all of their spells, telling them if they needed to improve or not, if he liked how they fought or not. Always, the Dark Lord said he liked Draco dueling over hers.

Of course, this made Vane very upset every time, but Draco knew she valued her life so she shut up about it. That didn't mean she was any less deluded to think that being a favourite of the Dark Lord translated to privileges. Sure, Draco avoided a lot of things by being favoured, but it wasn't all rainbows and sunshine. He has to work twice as hard as everyone else, and if he did something wrong, he'd get _Crucio_ 'd full force! Draco lost count of the amount of Nerve Repairing Potions he consumed per week during his summer. The other Young Death Eaters only got the Cruciatus Curse with 5% of the Dark Lord's power behind it.

See if Emma Vane will want it then!

Vane gave him a cold smile and hissed quietly. "I look _forward_ to seeing you _crumble_!" Then she got up and left.

Pansy glared at her retreating figure. "Can _I_ hex _her_?" She mocked Vane's way of speaking.

"No." Blaise finally spoke.

"Why not? She's a bi—"

Draco tuned them out. He knew Pansy never liked her. The two girls might have spent the late five years sleeping next to each other, but they despised each other. Understandable, since Vane was an antagonistic person, more so than Draco was. She just hid it well and picked on select students, like Muggle-borns or Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs—

**_"Or combinations of both."_ **

Draco shook his head and returned to staring out the window. Leave it to Oblem to interject his thoughts like that. 'Abrupt and Unannounced' should have been his name.

**_"Now, that's just mean! Here I am, so lonely!"_ **

_"What happened to hooting Theo's ears off?"_

**_"Nott got tired of my hooting and_ Silencio _'d me!"_**

The young Malfoy coughed into the back of his hand to cover up his snicker and smile. He knew Pansy and Blaise would give him strange looks, but he didn't care at the moment. Draco really appreciated the fact that Oblem always knew what to say to make him laugh whenever he was upset.

_"Serve's you right!"_

Oblem let out a startled birdy sound that was the equivalent of a human's gasp.

**_"How could you!"_ **

_"I'm a Malfoy! I do want!"_

**_"Once a brat, always a brat!"_ **

Draco chuckled in his mind. There was silence, for a moment, in the bond. Draco allowed himself to focus on what was before him outside the train. Since he boarded, he had stared out the window, unfocused and unattached. Now, he was still staring out the window, but he was watching clouds slowly glide across the afternoon sky. Draco found that the dirt and sand of the barren land outside was more interesting than the insides of the train.

He'd been cooped up inside a dark fortress aka Malfoy Manor during his summer, barely going outside. Draco didn't see the moon, much less the sun whenever he got the chance to. It made him realize just how much he took the outside world for granted. That thought turned Draco's attention towards his skin colour. He looked down at his hands and frowned at how pale he had gotten from lack of sunlight. Draco could see the outlines of his veins under his skin, reminding him of how little he ate during his Young Death Eater sessions. Anyone who stared at him long enough would realize that there was also a ghoulish look on his skin.

Draco didn't like it one bit.

Feeling the sudden urge to talk to someone, he called for his familiar through the bond.

_"Oblem?"_

**_"Yes, Draconian?"_ **

_"Are you... willing to listen to me just... talk?"_

**_"Draco."_ **

_"What?"_

**_"I'm only an owl. I cannot properly understand human emotions. Not even with twelve years of being in your mind."_ **

_"That doesn't mat–"_

**_"Why do you refuse to talk to your friends?"_ **

Draco went silent. He wanted to talk to them. He wanted to release all these feelings he's kept inside! But would they care? Draco was being stupid, of course they would care! They were his best friends after all.

_But..._

His summer wasn't something one would share. It wasn't good. Lucius being in Azkaban was not good. Voldemort staying at his home was _definitely not good_! Draco still questioned his mental state and desperately wanted his mother here! Above all things, _he was not good_!

Why should he bother them with his problems? It wasn't worth telling them. He'd just be a nuisance to them.

_"I don't want to."_

**_"Why?"_ **

_"They don't understand."_

**_"Don't or won't?"_ **

Draco's eyes wondered back to the window.

_"They won't understand."_

**_"And you think they'll understand if you say nothing?"_ **

_"Blaise can."_

**_"Not when you're being so abstruse!"_ **

Oblem had flapped his wings in annoyance. Draco grit his teeth to avoid growling out loud.

_"I don't want to!"_

**_"Draco!"_ **

_"SHUT UP! I'M JUST GOING TO BE A BOTHER! I DON'T WANT TO TELL THEM! I DON'T WANT THEM TO PITY ME! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! ALL YOU DO IS ANNOY AND ANNOY AND ANNOY ME! LEARN TO SHUT UP"_

The emotional pain that flowed down the bond made Draco physically slump his shoulders. He had wanted to release all of his pent up anger and frustration. It had only been about an hour and half since his tantrum in his bedroom, but Draco felt better now. He just didn't think he'd let it go on–

It finally registered to Draco that his emotional pain wasn't the only one flowing in the bond. Oblem was hurt from his words. His throat suddenly felt dry and his blood ran cold. Draco tried to apologize.

_"Hey, Oblem. I–"_

Oblem shut his side of the bond. Draco closed his eyes then blinked furiously to stop the tears that threatened to spill. All Oblem wanted to do was help, that's all he ever did! And what did Draco do?! Shout at him, be rude to him, throw things at him whenever he got upset!

_He was horrible owner!_

Draco folded his arms on top of the table and hid his face in them.

* * *

**HPHPHP**

* * *

The sudden surge of sound roused Draco from his sleep. There was a presence in his mind that he subconsciously knew was Oblem. What he also knew was that his familiar wouldn't talk to him until they were alone inside the Owlery tonight. Draco reached out a hand in his mind and stroked Oblem. The owl shook his feathers, but didn't move. He sighed, relieved that his familiar would at least let him comfort him this way.

It took a while for Draco to draw himself fully out of sleep. When he was certain he didn't look like a zombie, he lifted his head, still subconsciously stroking Oblem's feathers. He was still laying on the table, but there was a cloak draped over him. From the smell, one he's known for five years now, Draco knew it was Blaise's school cloak. The faint scent of parchment and the Italian's "Acqua di Giò" perfume by Half-blood Giorgio Armani told him so.

He pushed the hood off of his head and took in his surroundings. Pansy was still sitting across from him, but she wasn't looking at him. Instead, she was turned sideways in the seat talking to someone behind her. It took a while for Draco to realise that Pansy and his cheery dorm-mate, **Mirth Cleveland** , had struck up a conversation. He frowned when Pansy laughed at something he said.

"Wait a minute..." he mumbled to himself.

The space beside Pansy was empty, as was the one beside Draco. Maybe Blaise got up to talk to someone? Draco looked around the train carriage, then frowned when he didn't see his best mate. The clearing of a throat brought his attention to the four sitting at the table area beside from his. Someone passed between the tables, heading down the small walkway towards someone near the carriage door. He looked back and saw **Gregory Goyle** staring at him.

"What?" Draco asked.

This caught the Greengrass sisters' attention. They were sitting across from Goyle and Crabbe. **Vincent Crabbe** was staring out the window, unaware of those inside the train. Draco thought he knew how Crabbe was feeling right now. His 'henchman' was among the few unfortunate Young Death Eaters who was never allowed outside, because they weren't at the level of competency that the Dark Lord wanted them to be. Proof of that was how much paler Crabbe was than Goyle. Draco had to ask Uncle Severus to make them a Vitamin D infused powder to put on their food. A Durmstrang fifth-year, _Raisa Ashe_ , fainted too much for him to be unconcerned.

"Blaise was given a scroll of parchment tied with violet ribbon by a third-year," Goyle said, interrupting his thought.

Oblem perked up at this through their bond as if he knew what was happening. Draco sent a silent question, but his owl turned its back at him, refusing to talk. Draco focused on Goyle instead.

"What was it for?" He didn't ask if it had spell or curses on it. Knowing Blaise, the Italian would've checked about three times before finally touching the scroll.

"He got ' _formally_ '—," Gregory rolled his eyes at that. "—invited to join a _Professor H. E. F. Slughorn_ for lunch in compartment C."

There was a spark of something in the back of Draco's mind. He knew this person. Father had told him about that man probably more than five times for him to remember.

"It clicked. "Do you mean Professor Horace Eugene Flaccus Slughorn? As in the guy who was once the Head of Slytherin and Potions Master back in Lizard's days at Hogwarts?"

Gregory's eyes widened and his eyebrows rose at that. Lizard was the code word for the Dark Lord. All YDE were commanded to use it. If they used his self-appointed name or title, the Dark Mark would burn, hotter than it does whenever they were being summoned. Almost immediately, Crabbe turned to look at them. He didn't say anything, but there was the question burning in his eyes.

"Who's Lizard?" **Astoria Greengrass** asked, diverting their attention to her.

Of course, the Greengrass family had no allegiance to the Light, but they weren't a Dark family either, nor were they nuetral. Whatever they were, Draco didn't care. All that mattered was that she heard, and she must forget.

"My grandfather," Crabbe said without hesitation.

That made Goyle pause from discreetly taking out his wand. Draco knew he had the intention to _Obliviate_ her, but someone, most likely her older sister Daphne, would see and raise an alarm. That would mean unwanted attention their way. Thankfully, Crabbe was quick to reply in a way that wasn't suspicious.

Astoria seemed to dwell on it, then nodded. "Okay, that makes sense. You hate Elder Crabbe. Also, I know about him."

Draco rose an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Our grandfathers, paternal grandmother, father and estranged aunt were 'collected' by him when they went to Hogwarts. Professor Slughorn was quite the person since even mother knows him, and she went to Beauxbatons."

"Oh." He could only say.

Draco momentarily forgot that he and the YDE weren't the only persons whose parents and relatives went to Hogwarts. That meant they also knew of the man. There were other pure-bloods who met the man. Oblem tickled the back of his mind, as if to say _"Shame, shame, shame."_ and was shaking its head at him. Draco just rolled his eyes at the owl through the bond.

"So, when will he come back?" Draco looked at his watch. "It's thirty-two past two."

Gregory tilted his head to the side at little, thinking, then he checked his watch.

"Well, he's been gone since half past one, so—" He looked up at Draco. "—he should be back in the next fifteen minutes."

Draco nodded and leaned back in his seat. He folded Blaise's cloak and rested it on the table. He was a little bummed out that he wasn't invited, but that doesn't matter. Blaise would return and tell him all about it. With that thought, Draco leaned against the window again and stared out it.

" ...ith Malfoy's father in Azkaban! And with You-Know-Who's return... _But!_ It's none of my business. I just wish Malfoy would stop sulking. He'll take out his grumpiness on me..."

Draco had managed to catch the ending of whatever Cleveland was saying, and he did not like it that Cleveland was talking about him. He tore his gaze from the window and glared at his crude dorm-mate. He watched as Cleveland blushed crimson and began to stammer.

"O-oh! H-hey, Malfoy!"

The idiot realized that Draco had heard him, and was now trying to find an excuse for discussing his grumpiness (with his best friend) right in front of him.

"I was just wondering why you were... were... " he said, his hands up in surrender. Cleveland turned to Daphne. "Um, Greengrass? Help?"

 **Daphne Greengrass** scoffed and pretended she didn't hear him. When Cleveland turned to Pansy, she looked up at the ceiling as if it was the most fascinating thing she ever saw. Did he really expect them to come to his rescue when Draco was in a bad mood and Cleveland so blatantly talked about Draco while he was there? Was Cleveland dumber than he thought he was?


	3. Blaise and the word 'Cazzo'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perspective of Blaise Zabini. The step-father he hates, annoying females that like him, and a way too long lunch. Thank Merlin, Mamma grew him well!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any part taken directly from 'Half Blood Prince' that you see here.

_The idiot realized that Draco had heard him, and was now trying to find an excuse for discussing his grumpiness (with his best friend) right in front of him._

_"I was just wondering why you were... were... " he said, his hands up in surrender. Cleveland turned to Daphne. "Um, Greengrass? Help?"_

_**Daphne Greengrass** scoffed and pretended she didn't hear him. When Cleveland turned to Pansy, she looked up at the ceiling as if it was the most fascinating thing she ever saw. Did he really expect them to come to his rescue when Draco was in a bad mood and Cleveland so blatantly talked about Draco while he was there? Was Cleveland dumber than he thought he was?_

* * *

**HPHPHP**

* * *

**_Chapter Three: "Blaise and the word_ 'Cazzo' _"_ **

Sunday, September 1, 1996.

~On the Hogwarts Express~

Blaise Zabini stared at Draco, waiting for the boy to feel unsettled. He felt the side of his lip twitch when the blonde narrowed his eyes at the window and rubbed his thumb over his pale cheek. Blaise could tell he was irritated, and honestly, he found it a bit cute. Draco acting childishly was something Blaise liked to see no matter the circumstances. It meant that there was still a childish innocence left in his best mate. Of course, the boy refusing to talk to him was justified. He went through a terrible thing this summer whilst Blaise and Pansy were staying at the Parkinson's Villa in Rome, enjoying their summer.

You couldn't expect one to want to talk about that, especially with your mother's life on the line.

How did Blaise know?

That's because his mother was currently married to— _and pregnant for!_ — Xellar Renson.

Besides intentionally having the "I'm an idiot" brand on his forearm, the bloke was an arrogant, annoying and positively guileful _Junior_ Death Eater. _("Why did they even need classifications or divisions for it?! A Death Eater was Death Eater no matter what you called them, whether they willingly or unwillingly took the mark!")_ Sure, Renson was rich, he will give his mother that, but the prat was also an incredibly obsessive man! Blaise lost count of how many times the man spoke about his mother as if she was a possession! Honestly, he just wanted to punch the man every time he saw him! Renson also loved to boast to Blaise's mother, talking about many things concerning ' _the great Dark Lord'_. It was as if he wanted a death wish!

Well, considering who he was... serving and who he was married to, that might happen much sooner than Renson thought it would.

Blaise had intended to keep thinking ill of his new step-father while appearing nonchalant on the outside, but his attention was caught by the fair skinned female who sauntered her way down the walkway between the table areas. He wanted to frown at her authentic mink coat. Wearing animals like that should be a crime, leather excluded. Wizarding folks found a way to remove the skin of cows without harming the animals. As for every other animal, well, the same spell just didn't work. Don't ask him how.

"Dra–" Pansy started to say.

Their classmate, Emma Vane, interrupted. "Is Malfoy _still_ refusing to _talk_?"

Blaise watched as Draco jumped, clearly having been lost in his thought. Draco then turned around and glared at her. Blaise would've been more amused if he didn't notice the almost hostile red sparks of magic around the two of them. Of course, he knew he wasn't supposed to be able to see that. However, he always found a way to know or do something he wasn't supposed to. It didn't matter if it was legal or not.

A snicker threatened to escape Blaise's lips when he noticed Draco's grey eyes returning to Vane's chest more than once. He would keep his thoughts about that to himself.

About five seconds passed before she spoke again. "It _seems_ you _are_. "

Blaise looked towards Pansy, who was twirling a lock of dark brown hair from the half of her hair that was down. She was also glaring at Vane. Well, Pansy never liked her, so that was expected. Considering how Vane didn't even spare her glance, the feeling was mutual.

Draco replied. "It seems you aren't? I must be blind then to the way you've been avoiding Vaisey."

Blaise caught on to the satirical tone the blonde used; sarcastic, critical, and mocking. That pretty much summed up an upset Draco.

" _I_ have nothing to _hide_."

 _'Hmm. Sure,'_ he thought sarcastically as he stared at the antagonistic female. _'And my mother is white.'_

Decided this conversation wasn't worth his time, Blaise looked towards the Greengrass sisters. They always dressed well, so he didn't have to worry about them being an eyesore. Unbeknown to almost everyone, Blaise liked looking at people for longer periods of time. He found the hobby of appreciating, or disliking, their outfits of the day a nice way to pass time. He just didn't do it often or so boldly anymore. Two of Blaise's Slytherin female year-mates, Davis and Edsel, told him he looked like a stalker. He'd never forget the insulting word they called!

But, they... had a point.

Anyways, Daphne was dressed daintily as usual; a delicate beauty in a grey velvet sweater with charcoal-coloured mink lining the collar _("Again with wearing the animals?")._ The matching pleated black skirt was long enough to touch her shin while sitting. Her black flats made her already cute feet _("Don't judge me!")_ look even cuter; the grey stockings she had on complimented her shoes and outfit.

Astoria, on the other hand, was more bold than her older sister. She opted for a green and navy blue, hounds-tooth print travelling suit with trousers. It was tailored perfectly to be fitted, but not overly so, and highlighted her slim waist. Peeking from under her jacket was a black, funnel turtleneck shirt. To top of Astoria's outfits, she wore a pair of black, heeled ankle boots.

Blaise had to admit that their styles of dressing fit them well. Maybe, he can convince _Mamma_ to let his second sister, Elaine, to wear a travelling suit with trousers. Elaine loved to wear trousers and—

" _Greetings_ , Vain one." He heard Pansy say, interrupting his thoughts.

He turned his head towards them in time to see Vane flush in embarrassment. Pansy had come up with that name to get back a Emma Vane for calling her _'Penstemon'_ , a plant with stems of showy flowers resembling snapdragons. Indirectly, she called Pansy a dragon, using another flower's name. Ever since then, Pansy refused to call Vane otherwise. Speaking of insulting names, Blaise needed to make a bet with Tracey Davis on how long it would take before some cheeky first-year called Vane that name. Perhaps, a hundred galleons that it would be said before Yule? No, before October. These kids were secret devils.

"Greetings, _Parkinson_." She almost sneered at Pansy.

When Vane turned to him, the smile softened _("Please don't.")._

" _Saluti, Blaise_."

He wanted to frown, but kept his lips still. _Mamma_ raised him to be polite. Blaise rose an eyebrow at her and gave her a tilted nod. He immediately regretted doing so when Vane sat down beside Draco. He wanted to narrow his eyes at her, but kept his facial expression the same. Vane didn't come here to flirt with him. She came to harass Draco—

" _Come stai oggi?_ (How are you doing today?)" Vane asked. Her elbow was on the table with her hand under her chin. Her eyes were trained solely on Blaise.

_'Oh! Dalle palle cadenti di Merlino! Perché **cazzo** ha deciso di dargli attenzione? Voleva urlarle per farle indossare il visone, enfatizzando la pronuncia, sé mal disposto davanti a lui prima che lui—'_

_(Oh! By Merlin's saggy balls! Why the **fuck** did she decide to give him attention? He wanted to yell at her to get her mink wearing, pronunciation emphasizing, ill-disposed self from in front of him before he—)_

Blaise let out so much frustration in that one nanosecond longer blink, and the others were none the wiser.

_'Thank you, Mamma, for body and facial expression control lessons!'_

In his peripheral vision, he saw Draco roll his eyes. When the blonde opened his mouth to speak, Blaise knew that Vane's attention would be diverted from him.

"We're all fine today. Now, leave, Wind Vane."

Pansy moved closer to Blaise. Of course, he had no idea what his female best friend intended when she did that. Going along with it, Blaise met her halfway and gracefully put his arm around her shoulder. He put on the most seemingly effortless, innocent look on his face. Perhaps, the whole point of this was to insinuate a relationship between Pansy and Blaise. Or Pansy displaying possessiveness. He was then graced with a scowling Emma Vane who narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

_'Ah... Insinuate, it was.'_

She turned to Draco, her right hand twitching as if she wanted to hex him. " _Afraid_ I'll tell your _secret_?"

Blaise did a long blink to avoid sneering at her. He watched as Draco did _'that smirk'_ , and knew that whatever proceeded would irritate Vane to the fullest.

Draco replied. "They already know. After all, I got _special_ permission."

She glared at him. The girl hated those favoured over her. Childish and annoying at times, but totally Emma Vane.

She gave Draco a cold smile. "I look _forward_ to seeing you _crumble_!" Then she got up and left.

Pansy glared at her retreating figure. "Can _I_ hex _her_?" She mocked Vane's way of speaking.

"No." Blaise said.

"Why not? She's a bitch!" She frowned at him.

He finally rolled his eyes, tired of keeping his expression to himself. "Because... that'll only _lower_... you to _her_ level."

Pansy pouted in that _annoying_ way. "But—"

" _Don't_... even finish that." He said quietly but firmly. Blaise raised both eyebrows and questioned. "Do you... want to be... like _Vane_?"

The look of disgust and mild outrage that graced her face was a bit comical. "Fuck, no!"

" _Then_ ,... no hexing."

Blaise gave up a long time ago on fixing his pronunciation emphasization. At least it fit his haughty mannerism, _as opposed to Emma Vane_.

He leaned back in his seat, reaching a hand into his well structured jacket, slowly pulling out a small book.

A pair of lower-year girls were walking by, and the brave _("—Cazzo stupido!")_ one decided to run a hand through his short hair. Then the girls giggled and ran off towards carriage door. In retaliation, Blaise sent a barrage of wand-less, nonverbal Stinging Hexes at both girls. The shouts of pain were music to his ears. Blaise knew they'd need to have their hands and bums healed when they get to school. _Cazzo stupido!_ Serves them right!

Pansy already had her wand out, and was doing a scan on his hair to see if they rubbed anything in it. Or worse, took a hair. No one was Polyjuicing as him any time soon if he had a say in it!

"Stop glaring and sneering, Blaise." She placed her wand on the table when she was done. "No hairs missing, pastes in, spells on, potions rubbed or sprinkled on your hair." Then, he felt her hands in her hair. "Nothing's changed since the start of the ride, except its shape. Let me fix it back, you petty child."

Blaise whipped his head towards her so fast, he felt his neck crick a little. The Italian stared at her in outrage. He was not petty! He opened his mouth to tell her such, but his curly hair thought otherwise. The brown locks piled on top of his head had suddenly decided to flop down into his face. Blaise angrily batted his hair upwards and back on top of his head.

"I... am _not_ petty!"

Pansy scoffed. "And I'm not a spoiled, rude, rich girl."

She had the _nerve_ to roll her eyes at him! Blaise glared at her, even if he knew it would have no effect on her. Curse her for being used to it!

"They... _deserve_ it."

Pansy opened her mouth to reply, but their attention got captured by the small— _definitely forced_ — cough Draco made into the back of his hand. He looked like he was trying to cover up his snicker. Blaise and Pansy shared a look. Draco was staring out the window, a glazed look in his eyes.

"Is... " Pansy trailed off.

It was only due to Blaise knowing her since they could walk that he understood her incomplete sentences. "Talking... to _Oblem_?"

She nodded.

" _Yes_. Nadja does it too,... _but_ I don't have her this year." Blaise was referring to his female Eurasian eagle-owl.

Tilting her head a little to the side, Pansy nodded, a pondering expression on her face. He gave a hum for her attention, and when she turned to him, he raised an eyebrow to ask a silent question.

"Oh," she blurted out. "Just wondering why my parents never got me a bonding familiar."

Blaise smirked. " _Because_... with them, _you_... are _mendacious_."

"I am not!"

" _I said_... with them. _Not_... with others."

Pansy scowled at him, but let it go. Instead, her attention was diverted to the book he pulled out. Blaise eagerly— _well, only he and his Pans knew_ — told her the title, **_'Advanced Wand-less Magic 101'_** , and both began reading, ignoring the bubbly Cleveland behind them. Somewhere in the back of Blaise's mind, he remembered glancing at his blonde best mate, who was gritting his teeth with a stubborn look in his eyes. Whatever reason Draco did that, Blaise subconsciously found not as interesting as the book before him. With that, Blaise's attention stayed on the book he was sharing _(graciously)_ with Pansy. By the time they were at chapter two, both were discussing how to benefit fully from his book, as a Slytherin.

"I think, if we follow the instructions carefully—" Pansy started.

Blaise interrupted. "— _then_ ,... we'll cast the spells... _correctly_. And later—"

"—Later, we'll be able to tweak some parts to shorten the process!" Pansy finished.

He flipped the page. "That makes it... _a whole lot easier_ ,... and I'll look _cool_... doing it so _effortlessly_."

Pansy snorted. "Always about _you_! Why not say ' _We_ ' instead?"

Blaise did a long blink. " _My_ book."

"Not for long... _Blaiseykins_."

He sneered, feeling shudders go down his spine when he heard the horrendous nickname. " _Pansy_!" Blaise put his book face down on the table, still open, and swatted her on her shoulder. " _Don't_... call me... _that_!" He whined.

Mamma's voice rang in his head saying, _"Zabinis don't WHINE!"_

"Jones just _looooooves_ to call you that!" Pansy teased.

Before Blaise could retort, the named person skipped down the walkway. He frowned at her low pigtails bouncing with each small jump she took. Pansy dissolved into giggles, covering her mouth to (unsuccessfully) hide the sound. Blaise didn't even hide his eye-roll at that. Pansy switched from an A to bloody Q in a blink. How he managed, he never knew.

Erasobeth Jones, a third-year, stopped right at their table and took the empty seat beside Draco. She had her elbow on the table with her hand propping up her head. When she stared at him with a simultaneously cheeky and affectionate smile, Blaise immediately thought of Emma Vane. Jones was only cuter and bolder, tan skinned, and wearing a child cowgirl costume.

"Howdy, Pans!" Jones gave her a greeting without looking at her. Then her eyes took in Blaise's attire appreciatively. "Handsome as always, ma Blaiseykins!" Her western accent was heard clearly when she used the 'endearment'.

He sharply inhaled and closed his eyes. Jones took it as a good thing and chuckled. He was to throw up. _Imbavagliami con un cucchiaio! (Gag me with a spoon!)_

"Saluti, Jones." He said politely.

Jones grinned, smacking the gum in her mouth. "Aww! I told ya to call me ' _Beth_ '!"

 _"Quando le magiche Isole Vergini britanniche rimangono incinte! (When the Wizarding British Virgin Islands become pregnant!)"_ Was what he wanted to say.

Instead, he spoke quietly but firmly. "No, Jones."

Suddenly, she smirked at him. Blaise rose an eyebrow as that, and it stayed raised when he saw her take out a roll of parchment. The scroll was tied with a violet ribbon and was surrounded by white dots of magic. Of course, Blaise alone could see it, and told him that there were not charms or curses on the thing. It was safe. Jones stretched it towards him, then when he reached for it, she pulled it back.

"Nuh-uh, hot stuff! Call me ' _Beth_ '."

Blaise let the scowl that wanted to form since she sat down, form on his lips. This child was really annoying! How was it that she was a Hufflepuff? The Sorting Hat made some kind of mistake with this bundle of trouble wearing a cowgirl hat. And that wasn't all. Apparently, she was some cousin twice-removed to Megan Jones, another Hufflepuff. Megan was a fragile and dainty girl, much like Daphne but not as pretty, and also someone Blaise could call his friend. How both girls were so different when they lived in the same house, he didn't know.

"No."

Pansy, having stayed to herself since Jones sat down, got up and plucked the scroll from her hand. Jones whined in protest, but neither of them cared. Pansy handed it to him. After sneering at Jones, who was still seated, Blaise unrolled the parchment.

"What is it, Blaise?" Daphne asked softly in her fae-like voice from across the walkway.

Jones spoke up. "An invi— "

Pansy cut her off rudely. "No one fucking asked you, brat!"

Blaise tuned out whatever Jones said and focused on the parchment. He heard Astoria let out a questioning hum and decided to (graciously) read it aloud.

_"Blaise,"_

Both he and Daphne let of a small sound of displeasure.

"Not even ' _Dear_ ' or ' _Greetings_ '?" Gregory Goyle asked from his spot in front of Daphne. With consideration to Blaise's table, Goyle was actually sitting across walkway from a now sleeping Draco and an annoying Jones.

" _None_... I'm continuing," Blaise said.

_"I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor H. E. F. Slughorn"_

He blinked multiple times. It's finished? What kind of invitation was that?! Blaise flipped the parchment around, checking for anything else. Nope. That was it. Blaise frowned. He'd been honestly hoping for more, not that he'd let the others know.

Astoria asked. "Is that it?"

He nodded. "Should I... _go_?" Blaise asked them. "Is it worth my time?"

His friends, minus Crabbe who was staring out the window and an intruding Jones, looked at each other. Daphne answered for all of them.

"It's an invitation from a professor. It would be rude to not go."

Sighing, he got up and fixed his jacket. Hopefully, this would not be a massive waste of him time. Or worse, he's interrogated for something illegal him did in the past. Though, the likelihood of someone catching on to what he did last year was next to none. Having a mother who killed half her husbands and got away with it had its benefits.

"I'll see you by the next hour or so."

* * *

**HPHPHP**

* * *

When Blaise reached compartment C, he noted at once that he wasn't Professor Slughorn's only invitee. Through the window, he saw a seventh-year Gryffindor, Cormac McLaggen, already seated. He and Professor Slughorn seemed deep in conversation about something he couldn't hear through the compartment door.

Deciding to be an arse, Blaise opened the door slowly, hearing it made a loud creak sound halfway through his pulling. McLaggen glared at him. Obviously, they were talking about something important. He just didn't care.

"Blaise, m'boy!" said Professor Slughorn, standing up at the sight of him. The old man's great velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the space in the compartment. His shiny bald head and great silvery mustache gleamed as brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat. "Good to see you, good to see you!"

When Professor Slughorn sat down and Blaise took the empty seat beside McLaggen, he noticed that someone else squashed in the corner. Seeing the red hair and the multitude of freckles on her skin, he quickly identified her as the Weasley girl. The name, however, was lost to him. He had to admit though, she was good-looking, something the other Weasley obviously fell short of. Most likely, it came from her mother, or some distant relative.

Doesn't mean he'll ever tolerate her.

"Greetings." Blaise said politely. It was a generalised question, forcing She-Weasley and McLaggen to return it. If not for the teacher here, he was positive they'd ignore him, and he'd ignore them.

"Now, young Zabini" Professor Slughorn started. "I trust you are doing well?" Blaise nodded without saying anything.

"Yes! Now—" The fat man glanced towards McLaggen, who was pointedly looking out the window. "How is Thestor Nott? I haven't heard from him in such along time. We were old friends."

The fact that Professor Slughorn asked him such a question was somewhat surprising. The whole 'Department of Mysteries' adventure they said Potter and his friends went on in fifth-year was published it the _Daily Prophet_. Which rock was this professor living under?

McLaggen looked towards the walrus-sized man and started twisting his fingers on his lap. "I don't know much about—"

The professor turned to Blaise and asked. "You must know, Blaise."

_'Don't call me by my first name.'_

Only giving the professor a nanosecond longer blink, Blaise respectfully answered. " _Yes_ , sir... He was arrested—"

"For what?"

_'Cazzo maleducato!' (Fucking rude!)_

Deciding that this man would not wait for him to just get to the point, Blaise spoke bluntly. His slow and stiff speech would not be appreciated. And neither was Professor Slughorn's impatience!

"Death Eater."

The man's eyes widened. "Oh my! When?"

"When... " The pause was because he noticed someone peer inside through the window. He continued as he pulled out his wand slowly. "You-Know-Who's return... was _officially_ announced." With a flick of his wand, the compartment door slid open, revealing a seventh-year he did not know the name of.

The boy squeaked and stuttered an explanation. "Th-Th-The invitation! I-It said h-here!" He dug into his pockets and pulled out a folded piece of parchment and violet ribbon.

"Ah! You are Marcus Belby?" the professor asked. When Belby nodded, he said, "Welcome! Good to see you," but didn't stand up to greet him.

After that, Blaise ignored Belby. He didn't return the greeting Potter or Longbottom, didn't even look at them when the walrus asked if the Golden Boy or Longbottom knew him. He made a tiny cough of amused skepticism when Slughorn was being overly praising of Potter, followed by the She-Weasley angrily saying he was talented at posing. _Well, Blaise was very good at posing._ In response to Slughorn's comment about not crossing her, the Italian graced them all with a look of contempt.

He answered respectfully when asked about his mother, and refrained from _**hexing** everyone_ when the topic of his step-fathers' deaths came up. The skin beside Slughorn's eyes crinkled, and it wasn't from a smile. Blaise knew the walrus was judging Aida Zabini— _now bloody **Renson**! but only temporarily...—_ and he had to hold back his magic that wanted to _claw the professor's eyes out, **slowly**_! Violence would get him expelled and a one-way portkey home. Mother would not be pleased in the slightest.

When the commoner classed food was passed around, he politely took from some of which he was good enough in transfiguration to discretely change before eating, and also checked for foreign elements in or on it using his magic. Blaise was not eating low-class food from a walrus; look at its size! Professor Slughorn must've been trying to fatten them up when dessert came, because those Mince pies were bigger than they were supposed to be and _sweet_!

Before the eating even started, Blaise identified that the entire point of this meeting was for the man to connect with those from famous or prominent families. So, those who were invited were only here because they were connected to somebody well-known or influential for something, except the She-Weasley.

Marcus Belby because of his Uncle Damocles, who made the Wolfsbane potion.

Cormac McLaggen for his Uncle Tiberius in the Ministry, who coincidentally hunted nogtails with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour.

Blaise for his mother, because she had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously _("Hmm, sure.")_ and leaving her mounds of gold.

Neville Longbottom for his parents, well-known Aurors, who had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange and a couple of Death Eaters. (That had been an uncomfortable ten minutes...)

Ginevra Weasley for _"the most marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex"_ , according to the whale of a man.

Lastly, Harry Potter was there simply because he was 'The Chosen One', for defeating You-Know-Who when he was just a year old, etcetera, etcetera. _Blah, blah, blah!_

When the lunch was declared over, Blaise stood up, along with the others. He checked his watch and saw _'7:26 PM'_. He had left his housemates at half past one, so, that meant he had stayed here for nearly six hours. Blaise felt like his limbs needed oil from how stiff they were. His long legs had been quite uncomfortable since he was in front of Professor Slughorn, and now, the Italian desperately wanted to stretch his legs out. Maybe, he should do some Yoga when in the safety of of his bed curtains? Yeah, he should.

Just when Blaise was about to exit, Potter stopped in front of him. Annoyed, he pushed past Potter into the darkening corridor, shooting him a filthy look, unable to keep hours of irritation under control. Potter returned the look with interest, and rather quickly for a stupid Gryffindor. Blaise headed towards the train carriage door, aware of Potter, She-Weasley, and Longbottom following him behind him, talking quietly among themselves. Fortunately for him and unfortunately for them, compartment C was in one of the train carriage that happened to be Slytherin's territory. The three behind him stiffened and seemed to walk closer to him, as if he would protect them from the rest of him housemates.

_'Ha. Funny... '_

Before Blaise opened the carriage door leading back to his original seat, he looked behind him at the three Gryffindors. His dark brown eyes locked with bright green ones, and he blinked twice, unsure of how to feel after those two seconds that passed. There was something about Potter that was different this year. But, what was it?

Blaise turned the doorknob, then sought out his seat from previously. Thankfully, Erasobeth Jones wasn't seated there beside Draco. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing her after that _'Slug Club'_ lunch.

The Gryffindors were watched intently by all Slytherins present, and successfully not hexed. Even Draco and Emma Vane refrained from their usual sadistic ways of harassing people. When the carriage door closed behind them, Blaise was bombarded by questions. Thankfully, Pansy and Daphne got them to shut the hell up and wait until the Slytherin First Night Gathering tonight. Without their intervening, the Italian was _positive_ he'd have cursed someone already.


	4. Aboard, Departure, Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perspective of Pansy Parkinson. A loveable Azerbijan, "Bonjour, sweethearts!", and a returnee.
> 
> Blaise being shy was absolutely cute, and it made Pansy forget how vain the Italian could be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now onward, the chapters will be longer. Enjoy!

_Blaise turned the doorknob, then sought out his seat from previously. Thankfully, Erasobeth Jones wasn't seated there beside Draco. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing her after that **'Slug Club'** lunch._

_The Gryffindors were watched intently by all Slytherins present, and successfully not hexed. Even Draco and Emma Vane refrained from their usual sadistic ways of harassing people. When the carriage door closed behind them, Blaise was bombarded by questions. Thankfully, Pansy and Daphne got them to shut the hell up and wait until the Slytherin First Night Gathering tonight. Without their intervening, the Italian was **positive** he'd have cursed someone already._

* * *

**HPHPHP**

* * *

**_Chapter Four : Aboard, Departure, Arrival_ **

~On the Hogwarts Express~

Pansy Parkinson yawned, a hand covering her mouth as she waited for her best friend, Blaise Zabini, to return. It was already getting dark outside and the Italian had yet to return from his supposed 'lunch' with Professor _H. E. F._ Slughorn. Thankfully, she and Astoria Greengrass had managed to send away that _annoying_ Erasobeth Jones a little while after Blaise left; Jones was the _epitome_ of annoying! Additionally, she got to have a good conversation with Mirth Cleveland. You know, before Draco scared him away.

* * *

_Mirth was going on and on about his summer, then suddenly stopped talking. His eyes were trained somewhere behind her._

_"What?" Pansy asked, turning to look. She saw Draco Malfoy waking up, glancing at them, then looking around. What was fascinating about that? She turned back to Mirth. "It's just Draco."_

_Mirth tore his eyes away from the blonde and smiled sheepishly at her. "Sorry," He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just that Malfoy had been in a bad mood since this morning, and now, he's calmed down."_

_Pansy didn't like where this conversation was going. "Yeah, but he's alright now."_

_"I know, I know! It's just that... " He seemed to not know how to put his words together and shrugged._

_She was having none of that. "Just what?"_

_"Alright!" He gave in so easily. "I just think I understand how he feels."_

_Once again, the conversation was not_ _going anywhere she'd like it to go._

_"Oh, yes!" She said suddenly to paint the image of her remembering something._

_Mirth hummed for her to continue, his attention on her._

_"About your grandmother, Cleveland..." She said to distract him from Draco._

_Mirth asked, "What about Nənə (Grandmother)?" His native tongue, Azerbaijaini, slipped into his speaking whenever family was mentioned. "Nənə is alright. She's recovering from Ague, and is eating her Ashwinder eggs whole as she should."_

_"But, Cleveland, there's a potion." Pansy suggested._

_He shook his head. "No. We don't have any Potions Masters in Sumqayıt, Azerbaijan. They're in Baku, Azerbaijan's capital, but the prices are expensive and we'd need multiple." Mirth slouched in his seat. "We don't have the money."_

_Pansy paled. In her efforts to get attention off of Draco, she saddened a very happy male. "Sorry, Cleveland. I didn't mean to upset you."_

_He shrugged. "I'll fine."_

_She thought he would end there, but Mirth suddenly perked up. He then spoke of his hometown in Sumqayıt, of the river it was named after, and his family. Pansy smiled, pleased that he was happy again. That was all shattered when he looked at Draco, who was speaking to Goyle._

_"What?" She asked._

_"He's not longer gloomy."_

_Pansy sighed. "I said that earli—"_

_"It's understandable," He cut her. "After all, he's probably not had a good summer, w_ _ith Malfoy's father in Azkaban! And with You-Know-Who's return... " Mirth frowned, then shook his head. "But! It's none of my business. I just wish Malfoy would stop sulking. He'll take out his grumpiness on me when we're in our dormitory, he always does."_

 _She silently groaned, because she knew Draco heard that. Her blonde best friend had_ _tore his gaze from the window and glared at his crude dorm-mate. Mirth blushed crimson and began to stammer. It was obvious that_ _Draco had managed to catch some part of what Mirth said._

 _"O-oh! H-hey, Malfoy!" Mirth said, nervous._ _"I was just wondering why you were... were... " he said, his hands up in surrender. Mirth turned to Daphne. "Um, Greengrass? Help?"_

Sure, Daphne was a nice person, more caring than Pansy, but she knew how Draco was when in a bad mood.

_Daphne had scoffed and pretended she didn't hear him. Mirth turned to Pansy, and she looked up at the ceiling. Pansy definitely wanted to avoid being on the receiving end of Draco's anger, so she chose to abandon Mirth to the dragon. Maybe later, when they're at Hogwarts, she'll apologise for leaving him to Draco._

_Draco released some of his magic and let it move in a snake-like motion towards poor Mirth, who was frightened. The other three persons at his's table shuddered and leaned away. A wide-eyed look of horror graced his face, and Pansy winced, feeling very guilty. Draco pulled back his magic, then let it surge quickly towards the male. Mirth looked like he might faint if he stayed there any longer. Draco stopped his magic right before it could touch the blonde boy, then made it poke him hard. That was all it took for her happy friend to get up from his seat._

_"S-s-sor-ry!"_

_Mirth briskly walked towards the carriage door, and exited the train carriage. Draco smirked at that. Daphne rolled her eyes, displeased to have been dragged into this._ _Pansy glared at Draco. That was uncalled for!_

_"Draco, that was rude!" Pansy said in a disapproving tone._

_Draco rolled his eyes and went back to staring out the window._

* * *

Honestly, that entire thing was tiring. Draco's released magic swirled around him for half an hour before he absorbed it.

**Anyways!**

By now, most of the Slytherins in this train carriage were either fighting sleep, or already sleeping. The length of the train ride was very long, considering the fact that they were moving from King's Cross Station to the Scottish Highlands. It was only a matter of time before they were sleeping like babies, completely _oblivious_ to the world! Really, it always confused Pansy how Slytherins didn't trust easily and yet were able to fall asleep almost _anywhere_. The Hogwarts Express was full of _strangers_ and persons they wouldn't _trust_ as far they could throw them, which was saying something since they had magic. Still, they slept without a care!

Of course, there were those selected to keep watch to cast Disillusionment Charms so that outsiders wouldn't see their moment of weakness/ vulnerability. But, that didn't stop Pansy from fiercely fighting sleep whenever she wasn't home or at a place where she could trust those around her to not take advantage of her moment of vulnerability. Pansy was too paranoid for that.

She looked over towards Draco, who had switched seat with Daphne Greengrass. He had taken off his navy blue blazer jacket, Pansy noticed, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, the silver cuff-links on the table on top of his neatly laid down blazer jacket. Pansy remembered how she though he looked like a Ravenclaw when she saw him at Platform 9 and 3/4.

Anyways, Daphne wanted a break from her sister's talking, and Draco wanted to talk to someone since Pansy had been engrossed in Blaise's book that was left with her. She couldn't help it though. **_'Advanced Wand-less Magic 101'_** was just so interesting that she lost track of time and movement around her! It was at about quarter past two that Mirth had caught her attention, and successfully distracted her from the book. However, after Draco scared him away, Pansy had returned to book. By the time she noticed that the two blondes had switched places, she was halfway through chapter five.

Now, as she stared at Draco, she frowned at how much he'd changed during his summer. His blonde hair had gotten paler, as if that were possible, and his skin had a grey tinge to it. Draco looked like he had basically _avoided_ the sun his entire holiday, and she wasn't sure why. Was he locked up inside Malfoy after he received the Dark Mark? There was no reason for Lucius or Narcissa Malfoy to keep Draco inside.

_Unless, of course, You-Know-Who commanded them not to._

Pansy had found it suspicious that she hadn't been receiving as many letters from Draco as she used to, and they were all vague. Blaise had told her to not worry since he was probably getting Death Eater training, but she still worried anyway. Now, she wish she had pressed Draco more for details about his summer. What if You-Know-Who was doing something awful to her best friend?! She'd never forgive her if she just let it happen when she could have done something!

"Pansy?"

There was a snap of fingers, and she shook her head, clearing away her thoughts. Daphne who had called her.

"Yes, Daphne?"

The blonde was currently adjusting the shoulders of her velvet sweater. Her cerulean blue eyes were trained on Pansy, an elegant blonde eyebrow raised in question. Pansy wanted to groan! She was used to silent questions from Blaise, not her!

"What?" She asked, unnerved by the unwavering gaze.

Daphne hummed. _Fuck_.

Pansy sighed and just shrugged. "Just thinking."

"And glaring?"

She blinked twice. Was she actually glaring at Draco a while ago?

Daphne gave a small smile, having mercy on her, and spoke in her soft tone. "You were glaring at their table. Did it do something to you?"

"No." Pansy twisted her fingers on her lap, a bit embarrassed to have been doing that. "Just thinking... intensely." She added when Daphne gave her a mild skeptical look.

"I'd ask about what, but I don't think you'll tell me." She said, reaching into her small, grey clutch purse for her wand. "Want to practice Non-Verbal magic with me?"

Having already read six chapters of Blaise's book, Pansy decided to put it away in her red and brown handbag, and pulled out her wand too.

"Alright."

For the next few minutes, both of the went from spell to spell, a protective barrier around them in case a spell went adrift, though that was unlikely. Twice, Pansy had to be coached through a new spell that Daphne introduced her to, and three other times they had both messed up so badly that they had to duck out of the way of their own spells. They both shared a nervous laugh at that, equally embarrassed and amused. After a while, they just stopped practising and became silent, both lost in their thoughts.

Pansy looked over towards Draco again, who was whispering intently to Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's younger sister. Whatever Draco said made her laugh, and Crabbe groaned in his sleep at the sound. She watched as Goyle pulled out his wand and cast a _Muffliato_ over him and Crabbe. A giggle escaped her lips when Crabbe— _unconsciously might she add_ — leaned on Goyle, resting his head on his shoulder.

"Hey, Parkinson!" someone yelled from across the train carriage. Groans, mumbles and whines with obscenities followed, most likely from those who were either light sleepers or just fell asleep only to be rudely awakened. _'Poor them,'_ Pansy thought as she looked for who called her. She was not surprised to see her dorm-mate, **Tracey Davis** , standing by the door. The short, curly, black hair was a giveaway, as was the tall height and stance, her hands on her hips and weight on one leg.

"Oh, _joy_." Pansy deadpanned, followed by Daphne letting out a small groan.

She understood the blonde's pain.

Someone yelled at Tracey, to which she smirked at them and showed them her middle fingers. "Well, fuck you too, sweetheart!" Tracey said in a sickingly sweet tone. There was a back and forth of insults before she rolled her eyes and said something that left the person stuttering in embarrassment. Tracey then flipped her hair and sauntered down the isle to Pansy, content in having the last word.

Pansy rolled her eyes at that.

"Bonjour, sweethearts!" Tracey greeted as she neared their table. "I see you _beautiful_ ladies have avoided sleep. Good for you!" Her charcoal-coloured eyes gleaming at her in mischief.

" _Rude_ as always, Tracey," Daphne said when the taller female plopped herself down beside the blonde, forcing her to make space in the seat for her.

Tracey grinned, _"Love you, too!"_ being her immediate response.

"Love is a very strong word— "

" — to express strong feelings of affection between two or more people." Davis interrupted Daphne, then continued the sentence as if it was what her friend wanted to say.

Daphne frowned at her, a look of mock annoyance on her face. Then, she replaced it with a smug look. "Oh, Tracey... If only there was someone who _loved_ you."

Pansy snorted, unable to keep her laughter to herself. " _Oh, Merlin!_ "

Tracey gasped at Daphne in mock hurt. "How _rude_!" She shot both of them a look of betrayal, causing Pansy and Daphne to dissolve into a fit of giggles.

Daphne was the first to recover and replied cheekily. "Tray. You are _the epitome_ of _sass and sarcasm_ , and you dare call _me_ the rude one?" Her eyebrows were raised in amusement.

"And you're making it sound like I'm the _bad_ one!" Tracey grumbled out.

Daphne placed a finger over her lips and winked. " _Shh!_ Don't let the world know!" she whispered.

They laughed, catching Draco and Astoria's attention. The two of them just shook their heads, used to them doing this all the time. When the three girls had calmed down from their laughter, Tracey leaned forward in the way one would when spreading gossip. Daphne snorted and turned her head away, never one for gossiping. Pansy, on the other hand, leaned forward in anticipation, wondering what she would hear from the Queen of Gossip this time. Tracey always knew the details of the latest drama or event happening, whether at Hogwarts or in the Ministry.

"So, guess who's on the train that none of us snakes would've thought wanted to return to Hogwarts?" Tracey started, her eyes flickering over to Daphne's table where Astoria and Draco were listening with mild(?) interest.

"Is it a teacher?" Pansy asked.

" _Well..._ " the French girl trailed off, winking conspiratorially.

It was enough to tell Pansy _'No, not a teacher.'_ but also _'Yes.'_ That meant that the person was a student.

"A student is returning to Hogwarts for work, then? So, a graduate then, who successfully got the job of a teacher... " Pansy trailed off.

"And male!" Tracey said. She then leaned back, smirking and waiting for her to piece together the clues to know who.

Pansy glared at her, but was not put out by the mystery of this. Graduate? There were about a hundred of them! Male? So, half the graduating class, then... Teacher, though unspecified. Was it intentional or not? And currently on the train. How did Pansy miss that one? Unless, he hid at the extreme back of the train, where no one would guess he'd be, and in a compartment all by himself.

Then it clicked!

Tracey said " _...none of us snakes"_ , which meant that the person was a Slytherin! If this was a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, then Pansy and the rest of them would already know! All the recently graduated Slytherin males were: Christian Baddock, Jean-O'brian Cowley, Lionel Cyspero, Richard Ezle, Zane Hilden and Adrian Pucey.

"Well," Pansy started to say.

Draco and Astoria turned their attention to her, as did Daphne, though that was out of curiosity instead of actual interest in the gossip that somehow reached Tracey's ears. Tracey leaned forward again to hear what she was saying.

Pansy continued, "Cowley is on his way to becoming a professional Quidditch player, so he's out. Cyspero returned to Norway to do Photography and Documentation, and Hilden wanted to work as an apprentice in an apothecary with Potions Master Sutherland. I think he got what wanted. Both of them are out."

She had listed them out, lifting a finger each time to represent them. There were six male Slytherin graduates and she spoke about three. What about the other three? "Baddock applied to be an apprentice to Professor Flitwick, but was gently let down. I think he's looking for another Charms Master to apprentice under. Ezle got a job at the Ministry, so he's out. And... "

"It's Adrian Pucey, isn't it?" Draco asked. When Pansy glared at him for taking the words out of her mouth, he smirked at her, further irritating her.

"I was getting to that!" Pansy said.

Daphne scoffed. "Slow." Then she got up and made Draco switch back seats with her.

"Whatever," Pansy said. "But, he's actually here?"

Tracey grinned and rested her chin on her hands. "Hiding in Compartment D, beside the compartment where Blaise went. Those compartments usually have transfer students and new teachers in them, but since it's in Slytherin territory, most opt for compartments at the front of the train."

Pansy nodded at her and Tracey got up, satisfied with her response to the information. The group said their farewells to her and each went to do their own business. Crabbe and Goyle were still sleeping in the Muffliato barrier, oblivious to the world. Astoria and Daphne were reading Blaise's book that Pansy loaned them— _for a favour_. Draco was back in his original seat, once again staring out the window, though not upset like he was when he boarded the train.

Pansy found that to be a good thing, since Draco rarely was like that when he rode the Hogwarts Express. It was strange seeing him like this, but with what was happening in the United Kingdom, it was understandable.

There were dark clouds looming over many of them, and those who didn't have any over them were fools to think that life would continue the same way. You-Know-Who has returned, meaning that Harry Potter was right all of last year, and those Ministry idiots plus everyone else who didn't believe were total idiots. Potter never had a reason to lie in the past— _most Slytherins knew that_. Not even when dealing with his own housemates did he lie for their sake. The Slytherins, however, would've looked bad if they sided with Potter, or worse... defended a Gryffindor. No one would believe them, and Potter certainly wouldn't trust them, so they resorted to antagonising him instead, to save face. But, back in the safety of their dormitory, they pitied him for what he was going through.

Of course, the whole Inquisitorial Squad was a way for _Dumb_ -bridge to further antagonise Potter, and not wanting negative attention from the Ministry on them, the Slytherins decided to add to the Boy-Who-Lived's suffering. It put them on the Ministry's side when in reality, they cursed those _fucking idiotic adults_ behind their backs. How were _any_ of those people once Slytherins?! There was zero cunning... anything in the strategic plans to alienate Harry Potter and Headmaster Dumbledore, and make them look bad or unhinged to the rest of society! A _First-year_ could figure it out!

A First-year actually did by October.

Truth be told, the Slytherins were doing a lot of illegal shit that year, and having Um- _bitch_ none the wiser was a blessing to them. Too bad Potter and his fellow students suffered while they somewhat enjoyed their fifth-year. Key word: _Somewhat._ The Defence Against Dark Arts lesson were **rubbish**! How Pansy even got an _Outstanding_ on her Ordinary Wizarding Levels exam was a miracle! The whole thing was a complete waste of her time!

* * *

"Is that Blaise?" someone asked from the table behind Draco.

Pansy turned her attention towards the train carriage door leading to the other Slytherin carriage. Sure enough, there was Blaise, looking behind him at someone. Several wands were pulled out and disillusionment charms cast just in case someone came in after him who wasn't a Slytherin or Hufflepuff. Hufflepuffs could be trusted, but the other two houses? Not so much.

When he opened the door, they were all greeted with the sight of Potter, She-Weasley and Longbottom following behind him. Longbottom looked like he wanted to be _anywhere_ but here. Weasley glared at everyone, but it was clear that she was uneasy being in the enemy's territory. As for Potter, he looked more on-guard than anything, clearly not trusting them one bit.

All eyes— _well, for those who awake—_ were trained intently on the three Gryffindors. Pansy watched them walk through the carriage, Blaise casually sitting down beside her as if this was all normal. Surprisingly, those like Draco and Emma Vane who were known to harass others without a care, refrained from their usual sadistic ways. Soon, the Gryffindors were out the carriage door, and actually avoided being hexed too.

Almost as if the Gryffindors being gone was a giant **'GO'** sign to the others, questions were fired left and right at Blaise.

_"How was the supposed lunch?"_

_"What's Professor Slughorn like?"_

_"Why were Potter and the others behind you?"_

Pansy rolled her eyes at that one. Did they not notice when Potter and Longbottom walked through here half an hour after Blaise left?

Together, Pansy and Daphne managed to get the others (who were not apart of their group) to settle down. Bloody hell! Sometimes these Slytherins were as loud as the Gryffindors, and inquisitive too!

* * *

**HPHPHP**

* * *

The loud toot of the horn indicated that they were twenty minutes away from Hogsmeade Station. Several students, specifically the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, began putting on their school robes. The Slytherins, however, opted for thick new travelling cloaks of all sorts of colours (except red, that was a no-no) and fastened the silver clasps around their necks. Goyle got up from his seat, Crabbe following, and went to the other Slytherin carriage to retrieve all of their cloaks from their trunks. Poor Theodore Nott had gotten the shortest stick of the bunch, and had to remain in a compartment with all of their trunks and familiars' cages. Merlin knows he must be very annoyed right now and wouldn't mind being relieved of his duty.

"Edsel! Cleveland! Zabini!" someone yelled over the noise that rose when everyone else was taking out their cloaks.

Pansy and the others turned their attention to the carriage door that Crabbe and Goyle just walked through to Theodore. A seventh-year Slytherin prefect, **Harris MacDougal** , was waving to them and beckoning them over urgently. Mirth had just returned and frowned when his name had been called. Luella Edsel, one of Pansy's dorm-mates, happened to be walking in that direction. Their senior gave a tilted nod to all of them as a greeting, his cheeks flushed and breathing quickened, probably from running.

"Zabini, you other two. Can you please help the first-years with their cloaks?" He asked, pulling up the right sleeve of his wool sweater. "They don't... seem very trusting of us, and you're all good with children."

Funny, how he didn't request Pansy and Draco, who were fucking _Prefects like him_.

Pansy though he looked rather annoyed. The slowly healing burn marks on his forearm, he had gestured to it while speaking, told her that some of the First-years were being very... _difficult_ right now.

Blaise stood up and went with him, Mirth and Edsel following.

Soon after, Crabbe, Goyle and Theodore came back with their thick new travelling cloaks. Theirs were black, like the rest of their house, and had swirls of intricate designs and patterns on the lower part of it done in silver thread. All Slytherins made it their mission to wear travelling cloaks with those designs on it as a way to differentiate them from the rest of the school population.

A fourth-year Slytherin walked past their group and winked at Theodore. Pansy snickered, having seen him frown at the girl's back.

"So, Blaise went to help the little gremlins. Do you think he'll live to return?" Crabbe said jokingly.

They all laughed at that. Pansy smiled, pleased to see that he was back to his usual joking self and not sulking. It seemed the others were pleased too, and a good-natured round of _"Who Can Make The Others Laugh the Loudest?"_ commenced. By the end of it, Goyle had gotten them wheezing with a very crude joke about Minister Fudge and his wife. It was positively _scandalous_! When they all sat down, travelling cloaks on, Pansy's stomach was still aching from all the laughter.

Blaise came back shortly after, and Crabbe asked if he had been maimed by any gremlins. That sent them over the edge again with Blaise looking openly confused.

" _No..._ The only ones... _harmed_ were... the prefects." Blaise responded, taking his school cloak from Draco. It was the same one he had put over their best friend when he fell asleep. Blaise folded it and put it away in his black messenger bag. He slowly and gracefully pulled on his travelling cloak. "I'm too... _beautiful..._ to be _maimed_."

Draco snorted at that, and Blaise winked at him jokingly. Pansy, Daphne and Astoria dissolved into giggles. Blaise's vanity was often amusing. Of course, Theodore frowned, Pansy knew he would. He always tried to keep his face nonchalant, but they could all see the sparkle in Theodore's eyes.

After that, they listened to Blaise complain about that one boy who seemed hell-bent on setting him on fire.

Crabbe spoke up. "But, Blaise, you're already dark. Does he want you _crisped_ , then?"

Blaise openly chuckled at that, his deep, velvet voice carrying over the noise. Pansy was greeted with the sight of every person within hearing distance of Blaise's laughter, turning around and smiling. She knew how they felt. Whenever Blaise laughed, it was enchanting and very infectious, making you want to laugh and smile too.

" _Apparently,_ " Blaise replied, smiling at their small group of eight. " _Though,_ after smiling... the loud, _angry_ kid... he took my hand... and was _obedient_ to me."

"Makes sense. You're more handsome when you smile," Astoria spoke up from her corner. "And that was probably a huge contrast to what the other prefects' faces looked like when they approached him. He knew he could trust you."

Blaise blushed slightly, eliciting giggles from the three females and smirks from the other four males. The Italian held a hand to his face, trying to hide his cheeks and looking down. Blaise Zabini being shy and silently modest was absolutely cute! It often made Pansy forget how _vain_ Blaise could be.

"You are really good with children, Zabini." Theodore said quietly from beside Draco.

Blaise was very pleased to hear that, smiling brightly once again. It was true that he was good with children, very good actually. The prefects could trust him to handle them well, and Blaise wouldn't get scorched like the prefect (s?) had been. Pansy believed that it was one of the main reasons he was chosen to be a prefect by Headmaster Dumbledore in fifth-year.

However, Blaise refused, so Draco was given the position. Being prefect meant that Blaise would have less time on his hands to do illegal things, would be punished more severely if found out— _though that was unlikely_ , and would've been recruited by _Dumb_ -bridge to be in the Inquisitorial Squad. If Blaise refused, he would've drawn attention to the fact that not all Slytherins liked the pink-wearing hag, and they'd fall under scrutiny like the rest of the school. Even if they wore a facade outside of their dormitories and harassed Potter, Um- _bitch_ still would be suspicious of them.

The feeling of the train slowing down caught Pansy's attention. Draco looked out the window and Pansy followed.

"I can see Hogsmeade Station a distance away." She commented, watching the once blur of scenery now slow down.

A voice echoed through the train, as it always did. _"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."_

Pansy's stomach lurched with nerves as it always did when the train was slowing down. Blaise pressed a hand to her flat belly, Pansy was gripping the table edge and hunched over, and he took the Pepper-up Potion from Draco. The blonde always carried it for Pansy, who it seemed could not get over her motion sickness. This happened every Hogwarts school year whenever the train speed up or slowed down. If there was any change in direction, her head would hurt. It was an awful thing to have to experience whenever she rode the Hogwarts Express, especially since she loved it— _except in her first year, she had hated it and couldn't wait to get off!_

Blaise gave her the potion when the train finally stopped, and she greedily gulped it down, the minty aftertaste left in her mouth. Pansy didn't mind, since the Pepper-up potion was already calming her uneasy stomach— _and it would hide the lingering scent of cheese that came from the small sandwiches she ate._

Pansy stood up, with the Italian's help, and took up her large handbag, slinging it over her shoulder. Daphne handed her clutch purse to Theodore and held onto his arm, using him as a support as she bent her left leg so she could adjust the strap of her flats. Draco had crouched down to zip up Astoria's ankle boots; she always pulled down the small zipper whenever she was sitting for a long period of time. Crabbe handed Astoria her black wristlet bag over Draco's head. Theodore had his colourful hobo bag— _as ignorant to fashion as always_ , and was currently looking through it to see if he missing anything.

"Don't forget your book Blaise." Astoria said, taking it up from the table and handing him it.

"Thanks," Blaise replied, and put it in his bag.

Crabbe and Goyle picked up their duffel bags, stuffing the uneaten sweets from the Trolley lady in them. Luella Edsel and Tracey walking passed them to the other Slytherin carriage.

"Don't go through the Hufflepuff territory. It's awfully _crowded_." Tracey informed more than warned them, winking at Theodore.

Pansy smiled at Theodore, who was frowning deeply at Tracey's back.

"Why are all the girls suffering from an eye spasm around me?"

The smile dropped like a deep elf. Pansy blinked at him.

"What? It can't be _winking_." Theodore shrugged. "Winking is done more subtly and gracefully than that very _obvious_ blink they did."

He then turned on his heels and casually walked out the carriage door, the rest of them shaking their heads.

Crabbe playfully glared at Blaise, pointing at him. "I knew it was a bad idea to have you around. Our standards on everything have skyrocketed ever since!"

"Oops." Blaise grinned, not even the slightest bit apologetic.

They all laughed.

"Well, Astoria's stubborn zippers are up now." Draco said from beside Pansy. He was standing again and already had his courier bag slug across him when Pansy turned around. "I think we can all leave now."

They nodded in agreement. Blaise slung his messenger bag over his shoulder, grabbed Pansy hand, and escorted her out the carriage door. This carriage had no door to outside, so they had to go to the next one. Goyle and Crabbe were before them, their big bodies and glaring faces effectively clearing the path for the rest of them. Astoria and Daphne were behind Pansy, being escorted by Draco since Theodore went ahead.

Pansy stepped out of the train door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. She shivered a little, the cold night breeze brushing past her. Thankfully, her travelling cloak went down to her knees, because her brown and white one-shoulder dress stopped just above her knees and wasn't made of the thickest of materials. Blaise and the rest of them lit their wands with a Lumos, Goyle making his the brightest since he was leading through the crowded platform.

Just beside them, she saw a lamp bobbing over the heads of the students.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, little one?"

Professor Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down that steep, narrow path Pansy remembered falling on when she was first-year. Poor things, maybe some of them will drop into the Black Lake. Merlin knows she'd like to see another soaking wet, tiny child walk into the great hall shivering! It was always so amusing!


	5. The Sorting Ceremony part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The students are now at Hogwarts and waiting for the Sorting Ceremony to begin. What comes after the commencement is sprinkles with surprises. And before the major ones!
> 
> The door slowly opened, and out came Professor Snape, looking as terrifying as always, followed by seven cloaked figures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very much grateful that exams are over.

_Just beside them, she saw a lamp bobbing over the heads of the students._

_"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, little one?"_

_Professor Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads._

_"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"_

_Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down that steep, narrow path Pansy remembered falling on when she was first-year. Poor things, maybe some of them will drop into the Black Lake. Merlin knows she'd like to see another soaking wet, tiny child walk into the great hall shivering! It was always so amusing!_

* * *

**HPHPHP**

* * *

**_Chapter Five: "The Sorting Ceremony part 1"_ **

~The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry~

Daphne Greengrass sighed. After riding the Thestral Carriage, the Slytherins had to go through the mandatory Name Check before they were allowed to go to the Great Hall. Their Head of House, Professor **Severus Snape** , always asked Professor **Septima Vector** to wait for them at the doors, and do a check-off to see if the Slytherins were all here, safe and slightly tired. The hooked nose man would never admit that he deeply cared for his snakes, but everyone knew. That's why none of them fussed when this happened and waited patiently.

Didn't mean she was getting any less tired.

Daphne was one of those who stayed awake the entire train ride. She didn't want to leave her younger sister, Astoria, to the care of the others, even if they were trustworthy. Call it a big sister thing, but Astoria was her responsibility, so she'd take care of her.

Pansy Parkinson found enough seats for the group to sit together, at the front of the Great Hall. None of them were fond of being that close to the Head table, but since they wanted to sit together, they had to sit there. There were no assigned seats, not even at the Slytherin table. What if they wanted to sit somewhere else at some point? It was better for them to just sit anywhere, and those who didn't get their preferred seats had to stick with what they got. Nevertheless, they would sit there.

Gregory Goyle groaned, mumbling something like _'If we got here sooner, we'd be able to sit in the middle.'_ Daphne gave him a pointed look, daring him to not sit with the group. He sat down with them.

Daphne looked towards the Head Table, scanning it for new teachers as she usually did. She saw **Adrian Pucey** sitting beside Professor **Fillius Flitwick** , and once she caught his attention, she gave him a tilted nod. Pucey nodded back with a smile, then turned to the Charms Professor. She wondered what he would be teaching this year.

She also noted, feeling slightly confused, that several usually early professors were missing. Professor Snape, **Aurora Sinistra** , **Firenze** the Centaur and **Sybill Trelawney** were not there. Well, Daphne couldn't care less about the last two; she was no longer taking Divination with Professor Firenze, and Trelawney was a crazy bat. Her Head of House, however, was curiously missing. He usually was at Head Table, waiting for them to arrive so that he could raise that dark eyebrow of his in question to if they were alright. Always, the Slytherins would nod to him that they was alright, and he'd give a titled nod to his snakes in return. As for the Astronomy teacher, perhaps she was busy at the moment?

Daphne's eyes roamed the Head table once more, then paused at someone. Right beside Professor Sprout was a bald man with a large moustache. She wanted to curl her upper lip in disgust, but kept an expressionless face. The man was so enormously fat it was a wonder how he fit in the chair. That was definitely Horace Slughorn, but she wanted to be sure.

"Who's the large guy?" Pansy asked her question for her, trying to be nice in her description of the man and pointing discreetly to him.

 _'Large'_ was an understatement.

"Oh... _The walrus_." Blaise Zabini said with a hint of serious annoyance. "It is him."

Daphne was sitting across the table from Draco Malfoy, her back to Gryffindor. Draco turned to Blaise, who was sitting in the seat to his left, a pale blonde eyebrow raised at the name Blaise used. Pansy leaned forward a little to look at Blaise with her eyebrows furrowed, having sat on the other side of Draco. Her Italian friend had a frown on his face that showed his very obvious dislike for the man.

"That's Horace Slughorn," Blaise spoke, doing a slightly exaggerated blink when the professor spotted him from the all the way at the front. The Italian gave a tilted nod in response when the man did same, then rolled his eyes once the man's attention went the Professor Sprout. "He's a Potions Master."

Blaise _really_ didn't like him.

"Do you know what subject he'll teach?" Daphne asked softly. "After all, Professor Snape is a highly accomplished Potions Master. I'm not sure if the Headmaster will give him the job, unless he plans to give our Head of House the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Pansy perked up. "That could happen. I mean, both men are Potions Masters, sure, but that's all Professor Slughorn is. Most likely, Professor Snape will get the DADA position."

Astoria grinned beside Daphne, her eyes sparkling. "Yay! We finally get a decent Defense teacher!"

"What about Lupin?" Theodore asked from the seat at Blaise's left. "Professor Lupin was a wonderful Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to us, even if he was a werewolf. And Moody, even if he was just Barty Crouch Jr, and a Death Eater in disguise. He showed us the Unforgiveables and helped many of us resist the Imperial Curse."

Daphne nodded along with the others. It was true. It's just sad that he got Cedric Diggory killed. Poor Potter didn't stop sobbing even when the Crouch Jr led him away.

Astoria hummed, a small but audible sound that caught Daphne's attention. Her sister leaned forward in her seat. "You have a point there, Theo, and you too, Pansy." Both of them looked at her. Astoria rested her elbows on the edge of the table. "Aside from those two, we've had Quirrel who _reeked_ of garlic and _whimpered_ more than he taught. Not to mention Lockhart, who was _a fraud_ and didn't teach us much except about _himself_."

Daphne rolled her eyes, remembering those pathetic excuses for teachers.

Astoria continued. "Then we get Dolores Umbridge, Madame _Senior_ _Under-Secretary_ from the ministry."

"She was _ruining_ Hogwarts. I'm glad she's gone." Tracey Davis said, her elbows resting on the table and hands holding her head.

Daphne tensed a little, because she didn't see when Tracey sat beside her. _Why_ did her best friend love to sneak up on her?!

Before anyone could say anything else, the doors to the Great Hall opened and the first-years entered, led by Professor Sinistra. ( _'So that's where she was.'_ ) Deputy Headmistress **Minerva McGonagall** entered through the side door beside the Head table that the teachers used, carrying the Sorting Hat and the stool. The entire Great Hall went silent when Professor McGonagall set down the Hat on the stool. The Sorting Hat opened its mouth and started to sing its song, as it does every year.

Afterwards, Professor McGonagall began to read the names of the First-years. "Aries, Chadwick."

Daphne watched as a boy with slightly messy brown hair walked up the small stairs to the stool and sat down. The Sorting Hat was placed on his head, though it covered most of his face, only stopping at his ears. The boy jumped a little and let out a small squeak. Daphne immediately knew that he was either a Half-blood or a Muggle-born. Pure-bloods would've been told, by at least their parents or relatives, that the Sorting Hat spoke to you. This boy had no knowledge of that.

After a few minutes, Daphne began to wonder if something was wrong. She motioned for Draco to check the time on his watch and was surprised to learn that five minutes had passed. Soon, the whispers started, many students speculating about what was happening. Blaise let out a small snort, looking at the whispering students with disdain. Daphne shook her head, this male found a problem with almost everything.

Professor McGonagall leaned forward a little and told the Sorting Hat to hurry up. After another minute, it shouted. _"GRYFFINDOR!"_

The Gryffindors applauded enthusiastically, some even whistling. The boy slowly took the hat off of his head, shyly peeking out at the students, then placed the Sorting Hat on the stool. He gave a small smile and walked to the Gryffindor table. Daphne noticed, with slight surprise, that Aries sat down beside **Hermione** **Granger** , and that Granger hugged him. Either they knew each other beforehand, or they met on the Hogwarts Express.

"Arnold, Princa."

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

Gryffindor cheered for the next kid who was sorted into their house.

"Aston, Ruby."

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

Daphne raised her eyebrows in surprise, the Sorting Hat barely touched Aston's head before yelling. The blonde girl grinned and went to join the previously called kid at the end of the Gryffindor table.

"Barnsley, Jennifer."

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

Daphne leaned forwards a little to speak to the quiet blonde hiding beside Tracey. "Those sound like Muggle names."

Luella tensed, having been caught up in the small book in her hands. She didn't move her eyes from the page when she responded. "The first two sorted are Muggle-borns. The other two are Half-bloods. Aston is a fifth generation witch, and Barnsley is a third generation witch."

Daphne hummed in response, smiling. Luella may have been nose deep in the book, but she was still aware of her surroundings. It was actually quite impressive.

"Bennett, Ashley."

A shaking girl who sat down on the stool. She was obviously nervous, like Aries, but there was something different about her. Was it the name that sounded Muggle? Was Bennett a Muggle-born or a Half-blood? Daphne saw the girl tense as the Sorting Hat shouted.

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

Professor McGonagall frowned as she took the Sorting Hat off her head.

"Berry, Dayrell."

Berry was _not_ a Wizarding name, Daphne was sure of it.

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

She looked at her friends to see their reactions. It didn't surprise her, really, when she saw them frowning.

"A _Muggle-born..._ " Tracey said from beside her, as if the word was bitter to her tongue.

Unlike most Pure-bloods who hated Muggles and Muggle-borns on principle, Tracey actually met some of both, and had a very bad experience with them two years ago. After that, she didn't like their kind.

Professor McGonagall continued. "Beverly, Samuel."

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

"Blackburn, Shirley."

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

Despite the fact that Daphne also wasn't fond of Muggle-borns— _neither would she touch one with a five feet long pole_ , she knew she'd have to look out for them. She and Blaise had made a Dueling Club, _The Serpenti,_ during their third year because of Sirius Black escaping Azkaban. It was to teach all lower year students offensive spells— _some of which weren't legal_ , and have them know how to defend themselves against students of the other houses. Daphne lost count of how many time she had been ambushed by other students simply because she was a Slytherin _and_ a Pure-blood. Luckily, Tracey or Blaise were always with her, so they could protect her. And even if they weren't there, she could hold her own against as much as five persons. Daddy taught her how to duel well.

Daphne took notice of **Kallie Runcorn** , a Slytherin in her year and a Muggle-born, who had made all the First-year Muggle-borns to sit with her. Judging by the sneers of most of the students seated where the other First-years were, it was a wise idea to made them sit at her end of the table at the front.

"Caddington, Luke."

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

"Cahill, Rosemary."

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

"Calvin, Ajax."

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

"Cambridge, Ellison."

A shivering, wet child stumbled up the stairs. There were snickers that followed him, until Professor McGonagall glared down at the others. Before the Sorting Hat was placed on his head, she flicked her wand and the boy's robes were dry. Daphne looked at Pansy, knowing the girl found strange amusement in knowing a First-Year fell into the lake. She caught sight of the brunette smiling, then pouting when the boy was dried.

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

"Capella, Issy."

_"RAVEN- GRYFFINDOR!"_

"Cardiff, Suo."

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

"Carrow, Eros."

Slytherin wasn't the only house that turned to look at the Carrow twins, Flora and Hestia. Daphne frowned as she noticed that the Hufflepuffs were looking, as well as Gryffindors. A few more minutes later, the whispering started again. The Sorting Hat seemed to have trouble deciding where to put the boy.

_"HUFFLE- no. RAVENCL- no no no."_

Theo leaned forward and quietly asked, "Why do you think the Sorting Hat didn't immediately put him in Slytherin? All Carrows are Slytherin."

"I don't know, but it looks like he might be a Hatstall," Pansy pointed out.

Sure enough, when Draco checked the time on his watch again, more than five minutes had passed. This continued until it became seven minutes, to which Professor McGonagall urged the hat to put him in a house.

 _"Fine! Fine!"_ the Sorting Hat said, sounding a bit annoyed. _"SLYTHERIN!"_

There were loud cheers from the Carrows amongst the applause from the Slytherins, and from somewhere over at the Hufflepuff table. The boy smiled shyly when the hat was removed from his head. He nervously walked towards the Slytherin table and headed straight for the Carrows. The twin brunettes simultaneously hugged the boy when he got to them, giggling in an un-Slytherin way. Daphne rolled his eyes at them, but couldn't stop the small smile that touched her lips.

"Cedar, Melin."

Why did his name sound like ' _Merlin_ ' without the _'r'_?

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

"Ciel, Lucas."

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

"Dunbar, Catherine."

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

Daphne clapped for the new member, though she couldn't help but notice the angry look on Fay Dunbar's face as she turned to see the Gryffindor's reaction. Young Dunbar walked over to Slytherin with a huge smile. The Dunbars were a Neutral family, however, the members were typically placed in either Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Seeing as how Fay Dunbar was in neither, it was expected that she'd be jealous that her younger sister was sorted into Slytherin instead of her.

"Durac, Timothy."

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

"Edwards, Vogel."

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

"Elderslie, Peter."

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

"Enwhistle, Erica"

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

"Francis, Morice."

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

"Hoodin, Alys."

A petite girl skipped her way to the stool, reminding Daphne of Lily Moon, a Hufflepuff in her year. The girl sat down and the hat was placed on her head.

"I'm bored!" Astoria whined.

Blaise snorted softly. " _Patience..._ Someone of _interest..._ will soon come to... _entertain_ you all."

"What do you mean?" Draco nudged Blaise with his shoulder.

Instead of answering, the Italian looked towards the front.

The Sorting Hat shouted. _"SLYTHER-HUFFLEPUFF!"_

Daphne leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. Honestly, she couldn't wait for the Sorting Ceremony to be over. She wanted to eat then sleep.

"Hopkins, Jeremy."

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

**Boring.**

"Hughs, Kristina"

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

**Boring.**

"Kendal, Olive"

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

**Boring.**

"Kubdel, Audrey."

Draco's head turned to Blaise so fast Daphne thought he snapped his own neck.

"That's a French Pure-blood." Draco said accusingly.

Blaise simply smiled.

"What is a _French_ Pure-blood doing _here,_ Blaise?" Pansy asked.

" _Hogwarts..._ is the Wizarding school... that has the _best wards_... in the world... Not even _Durmstrang..._ can beat them in _security_." The Italian said. "I wonder... _why._ "

Theo spoke up. "Are you saying that foreigners are sending their children here? Is this because of You-Know-Who's return?"

Blaise lifted his shoulder in a small shrug. "That's what _Mamma_ thinks... and it's _possible_."

Their attention was drawn to the front when the Sorting Hat shouted. _"SLYTHERIN!"_

_'So, not boring, then.'_

They clapped for the newcomer. Daphne had opened her mouth to ask Blaise a question when she heard a name, one that shouldn't have been there.

"Lupin, Aline."

Daphne blinked several times. "I'm sorry... _What?_ "

"That's impossible!" Gregory said, frowning.

Draco looked at Tracey. "Since when did Professor Lupin have a niece or some distant relative?"

Tracey had a baffled look on her face. "I... don't know. I've never... _heard_ of there being a young Lupin." She looked utterly confused. Tracey stared at the young girl at the front as if the child had two heads. "How did _I_ not know about her being on the train? _Where_ could she have hidden that _I_ wouldn't know where she was?"

They weren't the only ones wondering what was happening. The other students were whispering amongst themselves too. A girl with brown hair and odd blue eyes sat on the stool, looking not the _slightest_ bit put off by the students' reactions. Several other were craning their necks to look at her, as if she was some celebrity. Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head, calling for everyone to be quiet.

"Last I checked," Pansy began, diverting their attention to her. "Remus Lupin was an only child, and so were his parents, Lyall and Hope Lupin. Even the grandparents were the only child to their parents."

"That leaves only one other possible reason why the girl was here," Astoria said, her cheeks tinged with red.

Luella spoke up, her nose still buried in the book. "Professor Lupin has a daughter."

"Well, _this_... is _scandalous_ ," Blaise said with traces of amusement in his voice.

Daphne rolled her eyes. Leave it to Blaise to find this funny!

"Indeed," Pansy replied, staring at the young Lupin.

 _"SLYTHER- !"_ the Sorting Hat started to say, then it stopped.

The fact that Slytherin was the first house the Sorting Hat suggested for her was shocking, to say the least. The Lupin family was traditionally Gryffindor. The brunette sat patiently, waiting to be placed in her Hogwarts house. For the third time today, there was a Hat-stall. Daphne watched as Professor McGonagall cleared her throat as a signal for the Sorting Hat to hurry up.

It was exactly eight minutes after being placed on her head that the Sorting Hat shouted, _"RAVENCLAW!"_

The cheers from Ravenclaw were _deafening_ to put it in mild terms. Those at Hogwarts in Fourth year through to Seventh year were taught by Remus Lupin, and all of Lupin's students would agree that he was the _**best** _Defense Against Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts **_ever_ **had. The Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and even some of the Slytherins were grumbling because she wasn't placed in their house. However, Daphne was more focused on the fact that young Lupin's father was a known werewolf. Did that mean she was also one? Or did she only have some of the werewolf genetics?

"Calm down, everyone!" Headmaster Dumbledore said, his voice projected by the Amplifying Charm, _Sonorus_. "We need to continue the Sorting Ceremony."

Of course, the old wizard's eyes were twinkling brightly as they usually did. Daphne wanted to shake her head. It seems like Professor Dumbledore found another favourite student. As if the Golden Trio weren't enough for him. Professor McGonagall continued sorting the students.

"Newport, Fabian."

A boy with ginger hair like the Weasleys and pale complexion, nervously walked up there.

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

"Petticoat, Samantha."

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

"Queen, Ziva."

Daphne perked up at that, remembering that trip to the city of Al-Khobar, Saudi Arabia. Daddy thought to carry her and Astoria there on his business trip. He wanted them to have contacts all over the world. While there, she heard several important names being dropped.

"That's an Arabian Pure-blood." She stated, looking at Astoria for confirmation. Her sister nodded.

Draco glared at Blaise. "Arabian?"

Blaise shrugged.

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

"Sherwood, Alec."

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

"Sparrowton, Ivar."

Draco glared at Blaise, again. "French again? And how many _international_ First-years are actually here?"

"Four," Blaise replied. "That last one's... _interesting_."

Draco frowned.

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

They clapped for the newcomer.

"Terro, Giana."

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

"Turpin, Jo-Ellen."

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

Blaise suddenly smirking caught Daphne's attention. He was looking towards the front where the last four First-years were. She didn't understand why until she saw the silver tiara on one of the girls' head. Daphne looked at him questioningly just as Professor McGonagall spoke.

"Brittley, Princess of the Region of Veneto."

Daphne brain short-circuited. A _princess_?! Of _Veneto, Italy_?!

" _Lunga vita a Sua Maestà! (Long live her majesty!)_ " Blaise said along with several other Italian students scattered amongst the student population.

Pansy sighed. "It's like you were waiting to say that."

"I was."

They collectively groaned at the smug look Blaise had on his face. It was a look he had that signalled him going into what they secretly called **'Granger Mode'**.

" _Fun Fact:_... While the Muggle King of Italy, _Umberto II_... from the House of Savoy was _deposed_ in 1983... the _Wizarding_ King remained in his position of ruler... _Now_ , they have the royalty reigning over the _twenty_ different regions of Italy."

Tracey hummed. "So, she's your ruler? For your region, I mean."

"Yes."

The Sorting Hat shouted, _"GRYFFINDOR!"_

Blaise blinked in outrage, looking as if he'd been slapped. "She needs to be _re_ -sorted!" He rose his voice a little.

Tracey chuckled, and reached across the table to pat Blaise's hand sympathetically. "There, there."

Daphne watched patiently as the next three students were sorted.

"Xeno, Randy."

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

"Yaxley, Hardin."

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

"Yarrow, Nora."

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

The last First-year had been sorted, and now Daphne waited for Headmaster Dumbledore to do his speech. Maybe, they would have camomile tea this time? The Earl Gray tea from the feast last year was absolutely divine!

"Um... guys?" Pansy said, catching their attention. "The Sorting Ceremony is over, but why has the Deputy Headmistress not left with the Sorting Hat and stool yet?"

And that brought their attention to the fact that Professor McGonagall was _still_ standing there. The Headmaster stood up, the old wizard's robes a bright purple with golden snitches flying around on it.

 _'Ridiculous as always,'_ Daphne thought.

"Greetings, everyone!" He began. "I know you've all been sprinkled with suprises this evening, how eventful it's been! However, the Sorting Ceremony is not over yet!"

They all perked up at that.

"As it stands, this year we have several transfers from abroad, as well as our international First-years. And while it is wonderful that Hogwarts has such a marvellous reputation in having the most secure wards of all Wizarding schools, we must not forget the main reason as to why these transfers have happened."

That left a dark cloud hovering over all of them. The Headmaster then offered a smile in an attempt to break the tension in the large room. "Now, I'm sure you are all curious about Aline Lupin."

That caught their attention.

"As many of you have guessed, she is Remus Lupin's daughter, who was a former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher here. It was also made known three years ago that he was a werewolf."

_By the Slytherin Head of House._

"Young Lupin is also a werewolf, and has been approved by the Minister of Magic to be here. You're parents were sent letters at the end of July informing them of such, and have all consented to her being here."

Tracey scoffed softly. "I knew _Père (Father)_ was hiding something from me."

Daphne hummed in agreement. They had sent letters back and forth when they realised that their parents weren't saying something to them. And concerning the letters at the end of July, Daddy had sent her and Astoria on a Luxurious Spa Trip to Barbados. She should've seen through that. They turned back to Headmaster Dumbledore, who had stopped speaking for a few seconds to allow the information to sink in.

"Our resident Potions Master will brew Wolfsbane for her, and a shelter in the Forbidden Forest has been provided for her to spend the nights of the Full Moon. The area will also be heavily warded so she cannot escape. All safety measures have been taken, and some extras too."

Daphne let out a sigh at that. Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore prepared for Lupin in advance. It made her feel more safe with the female being just two tables over.

After the students quieted down about that, the old wizard continued. "Additionally, by request of the both Magical and Muggle Ministries of Scandinavia, Aline Lupin has been transferred from _Durmstang Institute for Magical Learning_ to _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_. This has happened for various reasons, including for her safety. You are all expected to. . . "

Daphne tuned him out, turning to Theodore who knew more about news abroad than Tracey did. Her friend sighed, seeming to have expected this.

"I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. Too many things are happening tonight. I need time to wrap my head around some of them." Theo said.

And they let it go.

"Now!" Professor Dumbledore said, catching their attention. "Let me introduce you to the other transfer students." He turned to the teacher's entrance to the Great Hall.

The door slowly opened, and out came Professor Snape, looking as terrifying as always, followed by seven cloaked figures. The Slytherin Head of House took his place by the podium, a gold-coloured scroll in his hand that he unrolled. The transfer students stood in a line, facing the student population. The entire thing looked more like an unofficial Ministry ceremony, than a simple Sorting Ceremony.

Professor Snape cleared his throat to stop the whispering, then began reading. "From _Beauxbatons Academy of Magic_ in France," Two persons to the extreme right stepped forward. "Joining the Second-Years is **Munting, Anexa.** "

One of the two individuals, now known as Female, pulled back the hood of her cloak. Daphne's heart sped up for a second and she had no doubt that the rest of her fellow students felt the same way, the boys more than the girls. Her golden blonde hair seemed to have been kissed just the right amount by the sun, with amber eyes shining as the light from the floating candles reflected on it. _Veela._

The beautiful being moved gracefully towards to the stool and sat down, a small and pleasant smile on her lips. Daphne felt like it might actually be a crime for such a battered hat to be placed on her head. Glancing around at her friends, and taking notice of the dazed looks in their eyes— _except Blaise who was **so bloody hard** to please_, she knew they thought the same thing.

A few minutes later, the Sorting Hat shouted. _"GRYFFINDOR!"_

During the loud applause— _and whistling—_ from the Gryffindor table, the Veela got up and went to find a seat. Surprisingly, she sat between **Dean Thomas** and **Seamus Flinnigan**.

Professor Snape continued. "Also from _Beauxbatons Academy of Magic_ in France," He paused, his eyes briefly flickering towards the individual. "Joining the Sixth-Years is **D'lodgiram, Amanda.** "

The female pulled back the hood of her cloak. She had wavy blonde hair, like the girl before her, but it was tinged with orange. It was almost as if her genetics were stuck between making her a full blonde and making her a full redhead. Icy blue eyes flickered in Daphne's direction and she held in a shiver, her chest feeling _cold_ with just that look. And while the female might not have been Veela, she was still beautiful.

When D'lodgiram sat down on the stool, there was no small or pleasant smile on her lips. Just a cold, calculating gaze that swept over the school body before her. Professor McGonagall was caught in the action of removing her hand from the Sorting Hat when it chuckled. The Deputy Headmistress gave it a questioning look.

"I need not even touch her head to say _SLYTHERIN!_ " The hat said loud enough for all of them to hear.

Beside Daphne, she heard her best friend choke a little. She turned to the ravenette, a question in her eyes. When Tracey got her breathing under control, she gestured to their new dorm-mate, who was standing up. Absentmindedly, they all clapped for the new addition while looking at Tracey for an explanation.

"The D'lodgiram family is as influential in France as the Malfoys are in Britain, probably more so! They are _very rich_ , and _very regal_! Those people also don't take crap from _anyone_." Tracey spoke, then leaned forward, her voice dropping so that only they could hear her. "When You-Know-Who was recruiting during the First War, he sent Death Eaters to the family house. None of them returned uninjured!"

"Really?" Luella spoke up, looking at Tracey now, nose no longer in the book. The girl rarely engaged in conversation with others.

Tracey nodded. " _Oui! (Yes!) Père (Father)_ said that they told You-Know-Who to shove it! That they were Neutral and had no intention of joining in the war."

"And they're not dead?" Vincent asked from beside Gregory.

"Nope."

They were a bit surprised when D'lodgiram passed all the empty seat at the front. What surprised them even more was when she decided to sit in the empty seat between Pansy and Prefect MacDougal.

" _Salutations. (Greetings.)_ " D'lodgiram said to them, her thick French accent bleeding into her words. " _Pleasure_ to be here." Then she turned her attention to the front, not sparing any of them a glance. They softly replied _"Greetings,"_ to her. She gave no indication that she heard them.

 _'Rude!'_ Daphne thought, narrowing her eyes at the strawberry-blonde.

Pansy was glaring at her, only keeping her mouth shut because Draco not-so-nicely nudged her with his shoulders.

Daphne had a feeling that the brunette would not get along well with this female.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might get a double update.


	6. The Sorting Ceremony part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sorting Ceremony continues! With more surprises!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did the double update!
> 
> I tried to make it one chapter, but fitting 10k words in one document was troublesome. So, I split it in two. Sorry for the late update.
> 
> Now on to the story!

_Previously;_

_They were a bit surprised when D'lodgiram passed all the empty seat at the front. What surprised them even more was when she decided to sit in the empty seat between Pansy and Prefect MacDougal._

_" **Salutations. (Greetings.)** " D'lodgiram said to them, her thick French accent bleeding into her words. " **Pleasure** to be here." Then she turned her attention to the front, not sparing any of them a glance. They softly replied **"Greetings,"** to her. She gave no indication that she heard them._

_**'Rude!'** Daphne thought, narrowing her eyes at the strawberry-blonde._

_Pansy was glaring at her, only keeping her mouth shut because Draco not-so-nicely nudged her with his shoulders._

_Daphne had a feeling that the brunette would not get along well with this female._

* * *

**HPHPHP**

* * *

**_Chapter Six: "The Sorting Ceremony_ ** **_part 2"_ **

~The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry~

Draco Malfoy had to give Pansy Parkinson a good nudge with his shoulder to keep her mouth shut. He already had a headache from the overload of information thrown at him. He had no desire to add more to it. Let Amanda D'lodgiram do whatever the hell she pleased, as long as it didn't irritate him.

Draco wasn't sure exactly when the headache developed. Was during the mandatory Name Check before they entered the Great Hall? Was it when four Muggle-borns were sorted into Slytherin? Could it have been when they learned that their former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had a daughter, said daughter also being a werewolf and who coincidentally went to Durmstrang? Was it when four international Pure-bloods were announced? Was it when they learned that six ministries (three Muggle and three Magical) had requested that Aline Lupin be transferred to Hogwarts?

_Maybe it was that one._

Or could it have started when they learned that seven other individuals transferred from different places around the world to Hogwarts?

Honestly, Draco wasn't sure when his headache developed, and would most likely get an even worse one from trying to figure out when. Thankfully, Oblem had kept him either entertained or distracted, which ever one was needed at a specific time, so that he didn't snap at anyone. Sure, his familiar wasn't talking to him, but Oblem definitely did some rude and funny gestures to keep his attention away from the Sorting Ceremony. Merlin knew he needed that.

His godfather, Potions Professor and Head of House; Severus Snape, was up at the front. Uncle Severus had been tasked to read out the names and present the transfer students to the rest of them. So far, there was a Veela and an aloof girl from Beauxbatons. If the others were as... _unique_ , then he'd have to take a Dreamless Sleep Potion tonight. Draco knew enough about his headaches to know that one of this magnitude would last till morning, and he had no intention of having his sleep disturbed.

Professor Snape continued. "From _Uagadou School of Magic_ in Africa," Two persons from the extreme left, one shorter than the other, stepped forward. "Joining the Third-Years," He paused, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the parchment. " **Evans, Illy**."

There was a beat of silence before _"What?!"_ was heard from the Gryffindor table.

It didn't take a smart person to know that it was Potter who said that, and honestly, Draco was confused as well. He turned to Tracey Davis, she always knew things. Davis looked nothing short of flabbergasted.

"I take it you didn't know." Daphne stated more than asked.

Davis blinked several times before answering. "I certainly did not."

D'lodgiram made a small, sharp exhale through her nose. Draco looked at her with an eyebrow raised, but the female wasn't looking in his direction. He nudged Pansy to keep quiet, because she looked like she was going to speak to the aloof female. Pansy glared at him, and he shook his head. It wasn't worth it.

When Draco turned his attention to the front, the shorter cloaked figure had removed the hood. Evans had a head of large and long, bright red— _not orange like normal redheads—_ curls that looked almost heavy. Her hair blocked her eyes as she sat down on the stool, but before the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, she pushed back her curls. Bright green, doe eyes greeted them, and several gasps rang out around the room. Said eyes that disappeared under the hat.

Draco saw Daphne turn to look over the Gryffindor table and his eyes followed. Hermione Granger was in a heated conversation with Brown, who was probably trying to weasel information out of them— _Merlin, Brown was inquisitive!_ **Ronald Weasley** had an arm around Potter's shoulder, most likely comforting the obviously unsettled Boy-Who-Lived. Harry Potter had a look on his face that could be best described as pale yet hopeful. Pale, because of the strange and startling resemblance her hair and eyes had to his mother. Hopeful, because her last name meant that she was somehow related to him. Draco, on the other hand, was curious as to why _Illy Evans_ sounded like _Lily Evans_ with a misspelled first name.

The Sorting Hat shouting, _"HUFFLEPUFF!"_ caught their attention.

Evans got up after the hat was removed, a bright smile on her face. She skipped down the small stairs to the Hufflepuff table during their cheers. It was with the First-Years that she sat.

"Also from _Uagadou School of Magic_ in Africa," Professor Snape read, getting their attention once more. "...and joining the Seventh-Years is **Evans, Anthony.** "

Even if the male's name wasn't said, it would be quite easy to tell that Illy and Anthony Evans were siblings. When the hood was removed, shorter but no less curlier hair was revealed, in the same bright red and tied back with a black ribbon. A few shorter, rebellious curls had escaped the low ponytail and framed his face. _Well, isn't he a pretty boy._ The same bright green eyes greeted them, though not doe. Those eyes then flickered so obviously to his younger sister, a small smile blossoming on his face.

Draco could practically _hear_ the sighs of the Hufflepuffs who absolutely loved the whole _Big-brother-adoring-little-sister_ bullshit.

A few minutes later, the Sorting Hat shouted. _"SLYTHER—"_ then stopped speaking.

There was a feeling of déjà vu, because this was sort-of how he felt when Aline Lupin was sorted. Again, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat as a signal for the Sorting Hat to hurry up, more than five minutes having passed. The hat gave a small huff of annoyance. _Well, isn't it more expressive and vocal this year..._

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

The Hufflepuffs cheered loudly. The older Evans got up and made his way to the Hufflepuff table. When he was a few feet away from where his little sister sat, she got up and ran to him, hugging his mid-section because of how short she was. The _"Awww!"'s_ made Draco roll his eyes. D'lodgiram did that sharp-exhale-through-nose thing she did earlier, causing Daphne to glare at her.

"Do you have a problem?" Pansy asked, clearly as annoyed as Daphne was.

D'lodgiram tilted her her head a little in their direction, but not looking at them. It was done in a way to show that _'Yes.'_ she was listening to them, but _'No.'_ They were not more interesting than what was at the front.

 _'Why does this remind me of Mother?'_ Draco thought.

Oblem ruffled his feathers in the bond, but he didn't understand what that meant. His familiar rolled its eyes, as much as an owl could, and pointed its beak to the strawberry-blonde.

D'lodgiram gave a small gesture towards the Hufflepuffs without looking at them. "Zey remind me of some... _z_ _illy girls_... from school." She briefly glanced over there, looked up quickly, then blinked, her eyes once again trained on what was happening at the front. "Always... _extra_ over any form of love."

She had done what Draco guessed could either be an incomplete eye-roll, or stopping herself from actually rolling her eyes. None of them had a reply to what D'lodgiram said, but he was impressed that she got the last word. Usually, Pansy was the one who had the last word whenever she verbally challenged someone.

"From _Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_ in North America," Severus spoke again when the noise level went down. "...and joining the Fourth-Years," Of the three persons remaining, the one on the right slowly stepped forward. " **Praxton, Lilac.** "

The cloaked figure removed the hood from her head. Draco blinked several times at Praxton's hair. It was long, pin straight, and black with purplish-silver highlights. Was that a trend in the American Wizarding schools?

"Well, then." Blaise commented beside him, traces of amusement in his voice.

Draco rolled his eyes. Leave it to Blaise to be amused by that!

Praxton's hair covered half of her face and her head was lowered, as if she was trying to hide her face from them. She sat down on the stool and her hair moved a little to the side, briefly showing an eye. The girl was basically trying to hide herself, even if she was out in the open for the all to see. Professor McGonagall seemed to be having none of it and gently brushed the hair away from her face, revealing startled charcoal eyes that disappeared under the Sorting Hat.

The female tensed, most likely hearing the Sorting Hat speak to her. She jumped when it shouted, _"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

The Hufflepuffs cheered, but that only seemed to unsettle the shy girl more. Praxton stared wide-eyed at them with no indication of getting up despite the Hat being removed from her head. Professor McGonagall leaned over a little to whisper in her ear, and after about a minute, the girl nodded and went to find a seat at the table. Unsurprisingly, she chose the seat closest to the large doors to the Great Hall, clearly showing that she had every intention of not socializing.

Uncle Severus continued. "From _Castelobruxo_ in South America, and joining the Fifth-Years," Of the last two cloaked figures, the shorter one stepped forward. " **Grant, Clarissa.** "

Grant removed her hood, revealing a beautiful face. Her dark brown hair was in twin dutch(?) braids— _he had no expertise in female hairstyles—_ that were resting on her shoulders. Ordinary, dark brown eyes darted all over the room as she chewed nervously on her lips.

"Never heard of Grant," Tracey mused quietly. "Must be a Muggle-born."

Draco took the opportunity to discreetly look at D'lodgiram to see where her beliefs resided. An expressionless face staring at the nervous female at the front was all he saw. No contempt, no interest, _nothing._ Ah, this was harder than he thought.

By the time Draco returned his attention to Grant, the Sorting Hat was already on her head. A few minutes passed with the girl squirming on the stool, then Professor McGonagall gave a small clearing of her throat. The Sorting Hat snorted— _it was very vocal and expressive this year._ Still, a few more minutes passed before it made up its mind.

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

Grant slowly got up, a dazed expression on her face as she stared at the students before her. Then her cheeks turned pink and she quickly went find a seat. It seems she thought it would be best to sit beside **Lavender Brown** of all people. Not even a second passed before Draco saw the girl get bombarded by questions from Brown.

"Lastly, from the _Koldovstoretz School_ in Russia," Professor Snape continued. "...and joining the Seventh-Years," The last cloaked figure stepped forward. " **Gunshadow, Eve.** "

Gunshadow pulled back the hood of her cloak, revealing a goddess with pale skin. Draco's heart sped up for the second time today; it had done so when he saw the Veela, but that was a natural response. However, this female wasn't a Veela. She was beautiful, enchantingly so, but not as captivating as the Veela. However, the beauty stood out as more mature than the others. Gunshadow's hair was black, much like Praxton's own, but simply solid black. It was hard to tell how long her hair was since it disappeared inside the cloak, but it was... he dared say really pretty.

When the female's gaze swept over the student population, Draco's heart plunged to the pit of his stomach. That gaze was terrifying. Why? Because it reminded him of the Dark Lord. If only her eyes were red, then he'd say she was possibly related to the man— _reptile!_

Gunshadow's eyes were what Draco could only describe as a shade so _dark_ it was almost **black** , yet so _light_ it was a strange shade of **blue** , and so _odd_ that it almost looked **purple**. Like _indigo_.

The Sorting Hat shouting, _"SLYTHER—"_ then stopping, brought Draco's attention back to what was happening.

Gunshadow was seated with the hat on her head, eyes hidden underneath it. A few minutes had passed, and the Sorting Hat opened its mouth several times then closed it, not words coming out. Finally, it seemed to make up its mind.

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

The Ravenclaws applauded, some even whistling. Gunshadow went to find a seat, politely declining the offers for her to sit beside others. Surprisingly, she chose to sit beside Young Lupin, and even smiled at the werewolf. Did they know each other?

Professor McGonagall finally took the Sorting Hat and the stool, and left through the teacher's door.

"You all must be hungry." Headmaster Dumbledore spoke again. He gestured to the table in invitation. "Do enjoy." The food appeared before them on the once empty plates and dishes.

Taking in account that the Sorting Ceremony was much longer than it should've been, they decided to eat light tonight. If the Slytherin First Night Gathering was still on, they'd just socialise a little, then be sent to bed by Professor Snape. D'lodgiram barely conversed with them. She was more interested in what food Hogwarts had to offer, and whatever Prefect MacDougal was telling her. Well, it made sense that she talk to him, but at least socialise with the rest of them. There was only so much table etiquette you could do at Hogwarts.

It was roughly about half an hour later when the Headmaster stood up again. Those who thought to eat heavy had to stop for tonight, and those who were already finished and waiting, turned their attention to the front.

"What happened to his hand?" gasped Astoria.

She was not the only ones who had noticed. Professor Dumbledore's right hand was as blackened and dead-looking. Whispers swept the room; Dumbledore, interpreting them correctly, merely smiled and shook his purple-and-gold sleeve over his injury.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now... to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you . . ."

"Hiz hand was... like zat when I saw 'im over zee summer," D'lodgiram said, catching their attention. "I thought he'd have cured it by now, though."

"And why would— " Pansy started to ask, suspicious for no good reason.

"Doesn't matter _why._ It looks as if it's died!" said Astoria, with a nauseated expression. "But there _are_ some injuries you can't cure... old curses... and there are poisons without antidotes... "

They heard Dumbledore still speaking. ". . . and Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn" — Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow — "is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions Master."

"Potions?"

"Potions?"

The word echoed all over the Hall as students wondered whether they had heard right.

Draco's group of nine, ten if he included himself, had known about this because Blaise had told them.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Headmaster Dumbledore, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"No!" said Potter so loudly that many heads turned in his direction. He was staring up at the staff table, incensed. Well, it was widely known for years that Potter did not trust Severus to do it. So, Draco wasn't really surprised.

Severus, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right, did not stand up at the mention of his name. He merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment of the applause from the Slytherin table. Draco couldn't help the smile that touched his lips at the look of triumph on Uncle Severus' face.

During the the whisperings and theories being bounced around, Draco levitated his fork with his wand. He could do it wand-lessly, but was too lazy to.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. The whole Hall had erupted in a buzz of conversation at the news that Professor Snape had finally achieved his heart's desire. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, Dumbledore waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing.

"Additionally, we are pleased to welcome back a former student this year. Young Adrian Pucey" — The male stood up, his short brown hair bouncing a little. Pucey was wearing dark green robes with a black suit showing underneath, and gave them a dimpled smile — "has recently graduated from Hogwarts and was placed in Slytherin. He is here under an apprenticeship with our resident Transfiguration Professor, Minerva McGonagall. You will see him in your classes, and when necessary, he will be teaching you."

Draco joined his housemates in applauding to welcome Pucey. The other three houses followed.

"Also... while we have already welcomed her as a transfer student for this year, I'd like to welcome her once again for a different reason. Young Eve Gunshadow" — The indigo-eyed female that was sitting at the Ravenclaw table stood up, her black hair finally spilling out of the cloak, revealing it to surprisingly touch her bottom. Gunshadow politely waved at everyone and gave them a small smile. — "has chosen to repeat Seventh-Year to do subjects here that she was unable to do at _Koldovstoretz School._ "

The Great Hall once again buzzed with conversation.

"So, she's actually older than the Seventh-Years. I didn't expect that." Tracey mused.

Pansy nodded in agreement. "I knew there was something different about her."

The Headmaster cleared his throat. "Madame Gunshadow is also here under an apprenticeship with our resident Potions Master— and now Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Severus Snape. She will be doing Potions, Spell Crafting and Defense Against the Dark Arts with him. You will all see her in your different classes, and when necessary, she will be teaching you.

"You are all required to treat Student-Professors Pucey and Gunshadow with the same level of respect that you treat the members of staff with at Hogwarts. And you will be punished if you fail to do so, as you would be punished for disrespecting the other professors."

Headmaster Dumbledore let them talk amongst themselves for about a minute, then continued speaking.

"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

Draco stifled a flinch. He kept his eyes off of Dumbledore, making sure his fork still hovered in mid-air. Draco made sure his entire being painted a picture of him believing the headmaster's words were unworthy of his attention. He refused to let others know how his heart fell to the pit of his stomach, or see how nauseated he felt. He wouldn't show it.

The silence seemed to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke.

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

Dumbledore's blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more.

"But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories. Draco was in no hurry at all to leave with the gawping crowd, and lagged behind, most of his friends doing the same. Pansy had darted ahead to fulfill her prefect's duty of shepherding the first years, and joined by Blaise, Luella Edsel and Mirth Cleveland. Draco was in no mood to deal with children, so he didn't go. D'lodgiram had gone ahead with MacDougal, since he was a prefect.

"You alright, Dray?" Theodore asked, once they were at the very back of the throng pressing out of the Hall, and out of earshot of anyone else.

Draco shook his head, because no, he was most certainly not alright.

* * *

As Draco guessed, Uncle Severus allowed them half an hour of socialisation, then promptly sent them to unpack and go to bed at 10:45 pm. They were informed that Wake Up was at 5:30 am, and all Slytherins were required to be in the large common room by 6:15 am to hear the rules since they all went to bed without hearing them. After that, Professor Snape and the prefects would escort them to the Great Hall.

While unpacking his trunk in the dorm room, Draco listened to his other roommates joke around. Mirth Cleveland making fun of **Mauricius King** for finally getting a clue that Luella Edsel liked him romantically was a good laugh for them all. **Knox Farrel** was softly stroking the petals of his newest herbology acquisition so that the flower would stop menacing the others from its corner next to Farrel's bed. Blaise was in his bed, the curtains opened, and reading his book about Wand-less Magic. Crabbe and Goyle were going back and forth about something in the bathroom as they brushed their teeth. Theodore had already gone to bed, his curtains closed. It was just like every other year.

Normal, Draco was tempted to say.

Except he felt separated in a way he hadn't before. The others just seemed so, young, he realized sadly. They had their entire lives ahead of them. Sure, war loomed ahead for the Wizarding world and they would probably be affected by it, but right now, the only things they had to worry about was class, teachers, homework and perhaps the next girl they would try to hit up.

It was enough to make him depressed if he thought on it long enough. Theodore, Crabbe and Goyle knew how he felt since they were there with him during the Young Death Eater training. Blaise had an idea, yes, but it didn't keep him up at night like it did with the four servants of the Dark Lord. The other three were plain clueless.

"Hey Malfoy, how did you get your school things if you were stuck at Malfoy Manor all summer? I can't believe the Ministry would let you go to Diagon Alley but not your mother. She's innocent." Mauricius said from the couch near the door after he had wrestled Cleveland off him.

"Sev— Professor Snape," he corrected himself, "took me to Diagon Alley, since I wasn't allowed to go by myself. He also visited on his free days since he and Mother are close friends."

Those had been few but unpleasant hours of his summer. Part of Draco was expecting Severus to be angry that father got caught at the Ministry. He hadn't anticipated contained frustration for not being there to help. Draco could have handled his Godfather's anger better.

Draco settled the last of his books on the small bookcase next to his bed. Severus' presence at the Manor hadn't gone over well with the Ministry, him being an ex-Death Eater and all. But they couldn't complain when Dumbledore vouched for him. Instead, they did another pointless search of the manor, as if they'd find something new. A typical summer in Draco's opinion since the manor had been searched countless times before— except with the Dark Lord and Death Eaters present.

He couldn't go further than the gardens because the Dark Lord had made sure that with his Death Eater guards and wards, and demands that the YDE not go outside unless they deserve it, that he remained indoors as much as possible. Draco didn't want to necessarily be around his relatives sans his mother, or the other Death Eaters or in public, so his bedroom had become both sanctuary and prison.

"Well night, Malfoy." Mauricius spoke around a yawn before climbing into bed. All around them, everyone had either closed their bed curtains or gone to sleep. Mauricius opted for the later as he pulled the heavy comforter over him It would be a matter of minutes before he was asleep.

"Good night," Draco mumbled absently.

He looked over to Blaise, who already had a vial of Dreamless Sleep potion ready for him, and another for himself. Draco sat down on the edge of his bed, facing Blaise whose bed was right beside his. Silently, he took the vial, and they both swallowed down the odd tasting liquid. After ruffling Draco's pale blonde hair affectionately, Blaise got under his heavy comforter and flicked his curtains closed.

Draco stared at the floor for a while, then checked up on Oblem using the he telepathic bond. His familiar was warm, comfortable and no longer upset with him. He rather enjoyed the conversation with Oblem on his way to the owlery, and had a bit more peace and less of a headache when he returned to his dormitory.

A flick of his wand shut the curtains around his bed for privacy, then after a quick _Protego_ over his entire bed, he climbed under his own blankets. With his wand under his pillow, Draco got comfortable. Sleep gently pulled him under a few minutes later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna go on hiatus for a while.
> 
> As if I haven't been doing that already. *rolls eyes*


End file.
